I've taken to walking a little while during my lunch break. The weather is annoyingly great right now: 50 degrees and sunny means I have to work even harder to maintain a foul mood. The sun feels nice on my face and the wind blows my hair and there are usually interesting bits of garbage to look at. The reflective painted lines on the asphalt are crumbling away, leaving little piles of white glitter in the gutters. There is a utility marker on a vacant lot that is mangled and rusted and laying in the sand and I think that is what all signs will look like when the uranium dirt-eating children grow into zombies and bring the apocalypse.
My strolls also give me a chance to let my imagination run a little wild.
Hah,"glitter." It's so not glitter.
Yesterday, I stepped over this:
It's a metaphor for something, but I don't know what it is.