Her bare feet made a muddled sound as she walked across the cobblestone streets. The buildings were giants that lined both sides of her. She couldn't breathe because she had been running, not sure from what. She held her sandals in one hand gripping them by the woven gladiator strings. Her hair was no longer straight, it had succumbed to a slight afro from the damp air and her sweat, which tasted salty on her lips.
I can recall sitting out on the front doorstep watching the cars go by. My toes are on the third step and I'm about fifteen feet away from the busiest street in town. Some of the bastards drive with the music so loud it rattles everything on the walls. I always wanted to live in the middle of the city and this was as close as anyone could get living in a state filled with country. I watched cars go by but there is no sound, only lights. Bright, neon, blinding lights that trace in long stretched out lines almost as if they are racing each other or racing against time. I swear moments prior to this all the windows in the small house were open and the sound coming from the outside world was screeching so loud it was too much to bear but when I come out to investigate the sound I am in a trance with the surrounding silence and bright lights. So I sit, and stay a while. When I retrace my steps back int...