Digging through a building emptied of vitality, a man with a well-weathered face strikes up a conversation. His opening pitch following after a second's-hesitation. He talked pleasantly of family and pastimes. The lost art of conversation jarring in the grip of face-melting swelter. He doesn't oversell his window of attention, and leaves with an authentic wellwishing. The kindness of strangers so foreign in between the gaps of Californian concrete. And the sad cognizance of suspicion that doesn't fully retreat.
4:42 p.m. - 2023-07-28
Recent entries:
The Way of Weariness - 2023-08-08
Sailing By Starlight - 2023-08-04
Forty Two Shadows - 2023-08-04
One Plus One Plus Two Plus Half - 2023-08-04
Regrettably, Not Lucid - 2023-07-28
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