Alive on 13th Street

The window looks out on 13th Street NW. Cars, emergency vehicles, citizens all pass by. The view has traffic lights in green red yellow, taillights in another red, don't walk signals in orange, street lamps in that sick spaceport halogen pink, white headlights. The moon in blue. Citizens walk by, eating from bags. Drinking too. Makes it easy to re-feel that feeling: who are all those people down there, how did they find each other, and is it last call yet?

Of course no one revels on this street. Often people can be heard shouting: just as easily a greeting as a fight. This is a street where people just exist. No heights, no lows. People get by on this street. I'm luckier than most, with three windows.

In daylight it's a different street. Stone, grass, concrete, asphalt, dead and dying leaves. The sky hovers forgotten somehow in perfect azure. You have to look to see it. Silly people look at their shoes all day.