kanji

16 July, 2002
Dark End Of The Street

It's like living in an obscure episode of Twilight Zone.

Oh, sure, it's been seventeen hours since I woke up... but I'm sitting here trying to remember what has become of this day. And I'm coming up short.

I recall Miss Jane standing up to a telemarketer's call... and sullen about it 'til I packed up to leave. To a Kiss-less farewell. Talk about a dried-up carcass of a romance.

Nearly being rear-ended, at speed, by a Blazer that hadn't noticed traffic at a standstill for road construction... in the mirror, grey clouds of tire smoke mushrooming from the wheel wells. I was fully expecting a monster domino-effect. Providence.

Now that I think of it, every road travelled today was having some kind of work done. Perfume of the afternoon, the reek of asphalt, oil and steamy pavement. Muy delicioso.

Which is why I got to work .2 of an hour late. Like usual. Good thing it was like a mausoleum when I bounced in the door. As if anyone would notice.

One of those days where everyone wanted to talk. An hour, each.

Craig (my desktop publishing mentor) just returned from a motoring vacation to Colorado, his son (and his friends) following in a separate car, and venturing on when the others headed east. Good kid (meaning 20-ish), got us tickets to the USA-Honduras match in September. Two-week auto tour of the southwest stretching to include San Diego, Vancouver Island... and Breckenridge, Colorado. Which is where he's bailing out to live and work. Surprise, Dad!

Gutsy move, travelling very light. Hope he knows about the -40 degree winters.

Saaaa-lute! My bruth-a!

Christ, less than an hour 'til I leave. Hopefully, I'll know where I am when I wake up, tomorrow.

Where has the time gone? In disjointed bits. Percy Sledge testifying.

Submitted for your approval.

.


hit me with your rhythm stick




www.flickr.com
This is a Flickr badge showing public photos from puppet pauper pirate poet pawn & a king. Make your own badge here.