The burner was my kitchen, but when I was not cooking up some fabulous feast I sometimes kept the burner on to keep the roaches away. I seem to remember this little refrigerator as being not fully functional, but my memory could be wrong. There is a passage from short story by John Updike (called "The Morning") which perfectly captures how it felt for me to wake up in this room. Updike described "the same shivering, half-height refrigerator, the same nagging, sour smell" of a room in which he lived his monotonous life and where he waited for a lover to visit. I had one lover in this room, but I made Updike's phrase my own for its evocation of this half-height refrigerator, the smells of room 317, and the adventure of misery that was living here.
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