A friend cooked dinner on Tuesday night; food was excellent and we shared a nice bottle of wine. (Note to self; that's a lovely quantity when driving isn't involved!) I rode the El home while reading Franny and Zooey and was a little disappointed when it was my turn disembark. As I was walking to my apartment, I prayed, Let it be beautiful.
To what or to whom I don't know. I don't pray anymore. So I walked, wondering why I had said that, and so fervently. Perhaps because I prefer the world to be lovely, even if pointless. Chipped paint on front doors belongs exactly like that. And I wondered why I rail so against poorly designed new construction. Perhaps the lack of care involved; even from inside the profession, the things people want are a bit sickening. The construction will be a bad memory with a few years' dirty patina.
As I approached the tracks, walking in the street to have a bit of illumination and keep reading my book, the viaduct shouted, I LOVE YOU. Somebody had spray painted, in slightly sloppy uppercase letters, on the trestle, and was doubtless hanging upside down to do it. Black lettering on a white ground, seemingly for my sole appreciation.
The truce continues.
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1 comment:
You are a character aren't you?
:)
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