Above the deskAn I-95 sign to New York City, on a wall in Ontario.

After darkWhen the sun sets in Toronto, the lamps here come on.

The deskI spend most days here. The monitor opens my desktop.

The recordsThe candles are LEDs. The records are real.

The shelfSneakers, books and every tumbler I've collected.

The closetTwelve caps on one door, hundreds of stickers on the other.