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I saw a man eating paper on a bus stop. He had a big plastic bag where he pulled out strips of fluffy material and stuffed them in his mouth. I saw two swans fiercely guarding their five soft grey newborns. I saw everywhere young men walking dogs and wondered what that is about. I saw a couple waiting for the rain to end under a tree, passing the time by kissing.

Something felt irreversibly broken so I went out. Only it didn’t help. I curled on the sofa corner and watched a silly movie tears in my eyes. The night before I woke up to fireworks and only thought how much money they cost and that I wanted them to stop so I could sleep.

My umbrella is home and everything seems missing.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 8th, 2005 at 8:10 am and is filed under life.