I. AFTERNOON WALKS
I walked. I only had an hour break, but I decided to walk and risked being late at work.
Mango Avenue changes every time I walk: two stores closed, another eatery/restaurant opened. Last month, a boutique opened. Daytime Mango means a few pedestrians, scarce street kids, less pretensions.
I walked with a purpose: wedges, book, Sbarro. I walked to clear my mind. I walked to understand the reason we love.
Wedged. I wantingly needed a pair. I picked one with the certainty of a mother singling out her baby in a crowd. Booksaled. I picked one with the eagerness of a reader. I found Jonathan Franzen within fifteen minutes. I remembered sharing his “pain hurts but it doesn’t kill” to P. Sbarro-ed. I picked one with the heart of a lover because the pizza’s colors reminded me of the colors of happiness.
On my way back, I saw the lightning divide the overcast sky for a split second. I hurriedly went back to work.
I’m thankful of the word overcast.
I’m thankful of being loved.
I’m thankful of being in love.
I’m thankful of being uncertain.
I’m thankful of words.
I’m thankful of images.
I’m thankful of happiness.
I’m thankful of colors.
I’m thankful of flowers.
P.S. Of Stories and Storied Places is waiting for you. It is has two new albums of images. I thank you.