THE ROOMMATE She forces phlegm into my sink during the evening hours or the morning, bringing it up with a dying witch drag-it-up hawk. What is it with that? Does it really work? I could never… Guess I’m more of the silent type. Does she know how loud it is? Must have gotten it from someone in the family I bet. Wish she’d cut it out. I can’t say anything to her about it that’s for sure. She does it while I’m eating too sometimes. I can hear it down the hall scraping away at my imagination like nails on the blackboard or someone sawing wood. It’s just one big one, but that’s enough. I think I have to say something though if this happens again while I’m eating. NYC, December 11, 2005 © Ben Gerstein