wednesday, may 15, 2007

Dusk and mist soften the view from my apartment. Lighted windows glow gold and amber from the rectangles of buildings across the yard, across the street, across miles of city. They are like miniatures. I can reach up and move them around if I like. Tiny office workers would step dazedly from granite lobbies onto strange new plazas. Junkies would be shaken like ants from the sidewalk edges of buildings. Young mothers would comfort their strollered tots, bravely masking their own unsettling confusion. Pizza delivery drivers would circle strange new blocks, cursing under their breaths. Contemplative drunks in bars would remain unsuprised.