I’m standing in the vortex between worlds
down,
down,
past the Insomnia Cookies café, the concept of which always makes me smile.
I cross at crossing after crossing; alternating between looking left and looking right because the roads are only one way.
I walk down,
and down,
and the humidity clings to me like a second skin, wrapping me up in a sticky, uncomfortably warm embrace. I cross over and over again.
Past Trader Joe’s, past Starbucks, past the bookstore — I make a mental note to go back there later.
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