The traffic is smelly and loud behind my back. From where I sit I can hear far off music; light live jazz for the lunch crowd. Under latticed shade with sun on my hands and cool marble under my ass I feel comfortably anonymous.

People walk by but, I don’t meet their curious gazes. Who sits with their paper and pen, staring and scribbling anymore anyway?

I feel like an anachronism.

For these few precious moments before I must be a responsible grown up and run to work I feel the way I did when I was 19, sitting outside a coffee shop in my giant sunglasses daydreaming about having my own tiny apartment downtown and living an urban Bohemian life.

Even now, so many years later I look up at the Harbor Steps Apartments and have that vision again. Myself living some urban Bohemian life. Dancing in the high window heedless of the street below.


Written between 1:10 and 1:30 PM.


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