because when I think I won't be able to take care of myself any more I'll get on a train and go to Warren.
I told him I'd rather just go by myself when the time comes.
I tried to talk to Fay, but I can see she's afraid of me.
I guess she figures I've gone out of my mind. Last night she came home with somebody —he looked very young.
This morning the landlady, Mrs. Mooney, came up with a bowl of hot chicken soup and some chicken.
She said she just thought she would look in on me to see if I was doing all right.
I told her I had lots of food to eat but she left it anyway and it was good.
She pretended she was doing it on her own but I'm not that stupid yet.
Alice or Strauss must have told her to look in on me and make sure I was all right.
Well, that's okay. She's a nice old lady with an Irish accent and she likes to talk all about the people in the building.
When she saw the mess on the floor inside my apartment she didn't say anything about it. I guess she's all right.
November 1 — A week since I dared to write again.
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