A muggy sameness. Outside the hotel. 11:15PM and 6:15AM precisely the same. A blanket of humidity. Void of movement. Dark patches splintered by light. Flashing security lights from a vacant mall. The broken chatter of guards trying to come down from the nicotine night. Not too far down or lose the edge that might make or break the rest of their lives. Sweat turns a grey shirt black. Rubber soles silent on the street. Movement. Being on the road. High rise apartments. Luxury goods. Rain. Real, soaking, summer rain overwhelming gutters and streets as commuters fight the good fight. Dreaming of silent places and the moments before darkness.
Earthworms on pavement. Wet pants stepping over. Another bomba in Europe. Valet at the mall will cost you $30 and the line is a quarter mile long. AI, self-driving nonsense and social media that mines our brain for advertisers. Oh ya, I forgot “progress.” Will cost us dearly in the end, and the present while we do everything in our power to avoid the obvious.
Mirrors and glass, reflecting back what we want to see. Expense reports, books, more books and a rapidly filling calendar. Paddling hard, scraping for the wall. Now is the moment. Caught inside or in the crouch.