16 Sept 2022

The days are rich with light and people. The sun on anything throws me into a sweaty fit, the Friday afternoon clamor for the weekend, the sense of a job well done and forgotten. The sentences without subjects or objects or verbs, just me, just this.

In a park on a sunny day, an old man in a thong sits with his back to the camera. In the background, a sign in big red letters reads “Welcome.”

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