and oh i've been to georgia and california and...

The sky hasn’t been clear all day. It only had glimpses of clarity, moments when I look through the smog and thought I could trace the contour of a complete cloud, and thought I saw layers to the sky, that it might still resemble the blue-and-white type.

At the house across from me the young couple is playing with the baby. The woman is sitting on the steps with the baby in her arms. The man is crouched behind her and is tapping on the little guy.

At the house further down, a man came by in a white Mazda with tinted windows. He talked to the girl on the driveway for a while. He had his hands around her waist at one point. Three days ago the same girl had received a bouquet from him. Flowers delivered to her on a blue-sky-white-cloud Sunday afternoon. I was on the porch and talking to my friend through the phone. He was at a loss about a girlfriend.

So much can be seen from my porch in the moments I take my eyes off my book. Today I finished Haruki Murakami’s South of the Border. His voice is infectious. I washed it out with Elie Wiesel’s Night. I’m already half way through it. All this reading and random musings are only made possible through working part-time.