you_were_doing_something_else_that_day crOwl i know he must be cold on this frosty morning in early november. he's wearing a black t-shirt that says something i can't quite read, walking the streets of this silent, small, american town in the sunshine, breathing steam, stopping at a brick wall to make a call on his cell phone. he searches for the contact, hunched over like an old man, but he's sipping on a bottle of iced tea he must have bought from sheetz, a teen-ager on his way to make pizza dough. and so, i guess it's here, as i pass by him, that the circle stops spinning for a moment and he inadvertantly steps into the square i have created for him. what's next? only he knows. 071104 what's it to you? who go blather from