Today I'm packing my typewriter, two blankets, a sandwich, a pack of cigarettes, and an old CD player into the car; driving up to my grandfather's cabin in the woods (on the foot of the mountains), and writing all day.
I'm taking one break: at sunset. My date is the sandwich.
When it gets colder I'll start a fire.
When I get home, this whole pack of cigarettes will be empty.
I haven't been selfish in quite a while. It's due time.