The city unfolds around me like a stage set for someone else's play. Pavements gleam from the afternoon rain, and the crowd moves with a purpose I don't share. Then again, there purpose is controlled by someone else.
A definite pattern.
That's what these puppets follow.
I walk without aim, my steps light, my body slipping through their currents like a ghost no one bothered to believe in.
I had covered my face with a mask. The jacket on my body, protected me from unnecessary attraction.
Time loosens when I walk like this. Minutes feel like hours, hours like something thinner than a breath.
People stream past me, vivid and self-contained. I wanted to laugh at them.
A woman on the phone laughs too loudly, the sound cracking open the air for a second before it seals again. A child tugs at his mother's sleeve with a desperation that suggests the end of the world is shaped like a plastic toy.
