An empty room and no picture

There's an echo in my room, and the mice no longer have anywhere to hide. They dart, acting as if I don't notice, but I do. How could I not. People have called and asked if I'm standing in a cave. I'm not. There's just an echo. Because now it's empty, one stool remains to welcome whoever gets my oasis next. I am leaving in five minutes, and once I step out of this house I will per definition be a vagabond. I am keyless. I was going to write a list over what New York has taught me, which is a lot, and five minutes just won't do for that purpose. Instead you get this. A blurb about mice and empty rooms. And no picture. Stay tuned for Alaska! And maybe a list.