There is a morose beauty to an empty street, lined with bright, on-their-way-out leaves. The phenomenon called Fall hit me for the first time. I was sitting with BestMan at my tiny roundtable, the spotlight from above making us look like two players round a poker table from Godfather. As we spoke of absolutely nothing, he looked at me and said with the kindest intent," You look sad."
I was in that empty street, imagining a less bitter day. Mothers and their prams, scowling but silent maintenance men called to check a non-existent leaky faucet for the tenth time on a Sunday, persistent beeps (set to vibrating mode ) from mobile phones and bold college boys pretending to write by the poolside.
I live in a place so wrought with natural beauty that it makes me sigh involuntarily once in a while. I crave sound, I get it and then I want to go back. I am selfish because I want every sinew of every sensation in this world to hit me simultaneously. I am a glutton for beauty and grace and a little gentle digital beeping now and then.
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