Analog evening in a storefront window. Visible breath through the cold pane window. Fried fish sandwich and a cool bottle of water that washes away the anxiety from not knowing everything instantly. An adult life otherwise tethered to the internet. An answer to any questions moments away and the touch of a screen. Thankful. Grateful. Pause.
Change gears.
Crunching snow and an eviction notice. Out on the street the day before Thanksgiving. Thanks for giving, or is it thanks, forgetting? Shovels full of solid water and a warning determined to deter the masses and yet somehow the masses formed en masse to pollute the streets and sidewalks. A soup kitchen on Chicago and a few more steps to detox. Early morning afternoons leave tigers on the television, but you wouldn’t see it unless you were looking. Oh, and can you see the sky from here? Would it matter if you couldn’t? Isn’t there a basement with your name on it and some pillows left over from the trip out West. Cigars and scars and cigarettes and a sore spot from standing too long. The experience is the bottom line if we acknowledge it as such, but the line forms around the back! Unless of course you called ahead or ordered online or gave money to the last campaign. Whatever your position is there is likely a physician that’ll cut you open and take your money as long as you’ve declared your intent because those are the boundaries around this sandbox and if you don’t like it, or you can’t afford it, you can just kick rocks. Kick them on down the road and try to make your peace because there will come a time when you meet some maker and you’ll have to answer questions as to your whereabouts and why there aren’t any phone records.
My advice to you is to come back with a warrant.