I welcome myself back to this spot.
The spot in front of the computer.
The spot where my working nights are spent.
The spot of spots.
The spot where books are read.
The spot of all spots.
The spot where I communicate without speaking a word.
The spot of mimes. The spot of chimes. The spot of slowly passing times.

It is at this fixed spot that I will now count the next 7 hours and 50 minutes.
I count them through reading, writing, and contemplation.
Perhaps I will change a diaper or two.
It happens.
Perhaps I will collect some trash.
It certainly happens.
Perhaps I will gather some dirty linen.
It usually happens.

The spot of spots.
This very spot.
At twelve past midnight,
..kH