corridor_of_shadows birdmad busy day like any other downtown cars back and forth, sunlight slithering in at odd angles funny to realize that on this building where these little storefront restaurants are i have never looked up to see if they ARE the building just the front of something bigger. it roubles me now to think that i have never looked at it more observantly, it's a small thing, but sometimes the minutiae of the world is where the little wonders lie i waited in the little Cuban restaurant for my order to be ready and did my best not to erupt into my inept rhythmless dancing (it's a tragic sight, to be a sometime musician and have the talent for rhythm and melody in the performance of a song, but to have no knack to express how it moves me when i've no instrument to play along or when i don't know the words to sing...) people in an out of the door sitting at or getting up from their tables, the door acting as a capillary, delivery vans and taxicabs, the shuttle bus the overpriced status_symbol cars and SUV's the clutch of buildings like a small forest, the suits scuttleing back and forth from place to place, networking never taking their eye off whatever business at hand, the office workers glad to be out of their cubicle cages for an hour joking and talking street musician playing guitar in the courtyard bettween a couple of buildings, a scattering of small bills and change in the guitar case and a large ugly dog asleep next to it street preachers in the park and an earnest but not terribly impressive band on the park stage, pigeons and small ravens in the park trees and a few sleeping vqgrants here and there this is a warm place now, a pleasant winter, the envy of many, but come the summer the shadows will be a blessing the wheel will spin round and we will be set to burn once again, but in the pleasantry of this not-quite winter not-quite spring, the streets are a lively little corridor of shadows 020212 ... ClairE At night at night the hallway outside my bedroom door would go an even darker orange and I would gulp saying to myself maybe it's not the cars maybe it's not that truck and once in a while it'd be Daddy and he would always laugh at me. Always laugh. One day I told him I'd felt someone was staring at me all day, and I was walking down the stairs and I felt that prickling on my neck and I turned and there he was and he laughed at my screams. He stays on his side of the house these days, because now that I have breasts he doesn't dare open my door. 020212 what's it to you? who go blather from