When I left my apartment this morning it was like the beginning of a movie. Now, now... Not necessarily an exciting one, but... Waking up and going through my routine, walking through my apartment, my joints cracking, my hair mussed, pouring coffee in relative silence, evidence of a girl having been there in the not so distant past, her glass of water, her belt on the couch, brushing my teeth, deciding I can go another day without shaving... All of this felt a little cinematic to begin with, for some reason, and then I left my apartment and heard the accordion polka waltz my neighbor was listening to and that's when I really felt like I was watching myself start the day. The polka waltz became a soundtrack and I half expected to see opening titles, and the names of my producers and directors, hovering around me as I made my way down the stairs and outside.
It was rainy. Annoyingly so. I left the warm, peach humidity of my apartment and stepped out into the raininess. The polka waltz came to an abrupt end when the front door slammed behind me. It was going to be that kind of movie, was it?
I made it four blocks towards the train when I realized I had left the coffee pot on. I turned around. It was going to be that kind of movie, was it?
Returning... Inside my building, there's an old lady coming down the stairs, slowly, with a cane and a newspaper in the same hand. She pauses. She's about halfway down. I'm holding the door for her at the bottom. She's a little over halfway down. She's a little over a little over halfway down. She's got about a third to go. She pauses.
Tom October 10, 2007 1:54pm
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