unlocked past it's been years since i've lived somewhere where the default position is to not lock your doors. we leave our bikes out back with their locks carelessly placed in panier racks or across the handle bars. if we lived even ten blocks away, we'd lock everything tight. the difference space and demographics (meaning in this case an average age of over 20) make. 130910 ... tender_square they didn’t use their car very often. full days could pass without it being started, where it remained inert and locked in the driveway. she was mistress of the radio, keeping the station tuned to one of her three favorites: the new wave channel, the grunge channel, the college rock channel. no matter the time of day, no matter how brief or sustained the drive, the new wave station had a knack for playing howard jones’ “what is love?” whenever they were in the car together, vocalizing the question ever constant on her drifting mind: “does anybody love anybody anyway?” the more she realized she could live without him, the more sorry she felt for being stronger than she gave herself credit for. she didn’t know if the universe kept offering the song as advice to her or him: “and maybe love is letting people be just what they want to be the door always must be left unlocked to love when circumstance may lead someone away from you” in nearly every dream the nights bestowed upon her, he either wasn’t present, or was peripherally. she drove in vehicles alone, in control of the steering wheel, eying bridges she knew she couldn’t cross with him in tow. 220206 what's it to you? who go blather from