Monday, September 9, 2013

We watched a guy pull a mattress into the middle of the street with the giant bench, the one with no historical or cultural significance, on it. He tried to light it on fire but then gave up and went back inside, leaving his mattress for whoever wanted it.

I stopped looking out the window but continued to lean on it. Then, he kissed me. The kisses continued, right there by the window. I felt like part of the mural in Winslow, Arizona that's part of the Standin' on a Corner park. Right then and there I felt like a painting hanging over the old, beautiful street. A slice of living art for onlookers who weren't even there.

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