Bringing my backpack to the Fediverse
The door creaks as I close it behind me. Snow dances outside my new windows. Must hang some curtains soon. There's only me and my backpack so the apartment echoes as I walk around the few square meters. Not yet a home but four walls do not a prison make either.
My body is still sitting on the same old futon in front of the same old computer. ...but my soul has a new address online.