...through the city of philadelphia.
Tan mastiff with white toes, walking with his owner, headed toward me, coming back from the park with a new stick in his mouth. His trot is so proud and he is almost smiling. I love when dogs find the perfect stick and carry it in their mouths with them for the next two hours. Even if the stick is dragging along the ground, they carry it so proud but gentle like a new friend. His owner and I exchange an, "Isn't he great/cute smile." And we continue to walk away from each other.
*music plays...* "...So if ya feel thatcha can't go on. That all of you hope is gone. And your life is filled with much confusion. And happiness is just an illusion. And the world around you is crumbling down... Darling! Reach out.... c'mon girl, reach out for me. Reach out... reach out for meeeee. I'll be there...."
Pale, attractive man in his mid-thirties with shorts on, exposing his adorably knobby knees, heading west as I'm walking east in the crosswalk. His hair is almost messy. His curls look like they were brushed this morning simply from being pushed back by his fingers a few times. Yet, it looks perfect - bedroom perfect. He had eyes blue enough to see from across the street.
"...The world I love the tears I dropped, to be part of the wave, can't stop. Ever wonder if it's all for you?..."
Ladies shoes clicking behind me at a pace much more hurried than mine. They get closer and closer until she passes me on the left. Her purse is awesome! I think I even made an "oooh" face without caring if anyone, including her, noticed. It looked handmade, maybe bought at one of those African heritage stores. It was sleek and leather and had a circle of little cowries in the center.
"...I backed my car into a cop car, the other day. Well he just drove off sometimes life's okay. I ran my mouth off a bit too much. Oh, what did I say? Well you just laughed it off it was all-okay."
In the distance, at the bottom of the stairs into my building, I could see someone smoking a cigarette; it looks like a guy my age. The closer I get, the more it feels like I'm assembling pieces of a puzzle. Closer. He's a little younger than I am. Closer. Does he work with me? Closer. No. Closer. He's pretty cute. Closer. Wow, that's the same guy I saw get off the train, in front of me. I didn't know he worked in the same building. I remember seeing him earlier because his hair looked really soft.
"...And we'll all float on alright, already we'll all float on..."
I make my way up the front steps and enter the automatic turnstile. The two girls ahead of me don't extend their arm and hold the door for me to slip through. I open the door and make a point to hold the door for a woman in a red coat, who's lagging behind by a few seconds. I made a point to plant my feet and keep the door open to let her know that not everyone on this earth is going to turn their back, continue walking, disregard her presence and slam another door in her face. I never want to be that person.
1:27 PM - Monday, Mar. 21, 2005
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