Mid day morning, out the door on the second floor walk well of apartment 212 in building three, a young girl of six or seven runs though the courtyard on the grass over sidewalk through the grass behind building five, I stip step down the railed stairwell. The metal near make misstep as my shoes slide. Down the walkway betwixt the apartment doors, plaster wood walls, blinded windows and the soft patched earth, I round the corner onto rocks beside the walk and step on the log over the mud before placing down in the park drive. Gusts of wind brush my face, chilling, my fingers touch the damp door of my car. Upon leaving a taxi sits back up the drive, I leave east and make a uturn to head west to work. I turn with care for the rain my due good time and my silence is accosted by a rushing car hitting my car with water, the wind whistles through the car like a beggar smiles. I’ve lit my first cigarette, my mind pulls strings, my throat reiterates yesters foul consumption. Every minute I’m checking the clock, to gage my arrival time, hoping all remains constant. A red light makes me brake and I afford a look around at the other drivers and they smoke and eat and dress for wherever they be going. I raise not a thought one til I arrive at work, park, drag out, finish my cigarette, throw it to the ground, look around, both ways before crossing the street, and I walk in.
To fucking Tvs blasted, a radio blaring and my first thought is “Goddamn it to hell!”
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