Three words I never capitalize even at the beginning of a sentence.

god
christmas
olives

The Commute via RRV

He walked out of the office building and stood motionless on the steps for a moment as the cars past on the busy street. It was a winter night in the city. The rain dripped off the brim of his fedora. He had no raincoat and his suit soon became saturated. Almost in a trance he fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette, then a match. On the second try he took a long hard drag and exhaled upward staring into the night sky. As he ashed the wet cigarette broke in half. This was of little concern to him. He blinked repeatedly trying to adjust to the street lights. Staring at green font on a computer monitor for the last ten hours his eyes felt dry and irritated. He felt like an insect staring up at the skyscrapers that surrounded him. He turned to look at his place of employment. The office he was just in was about fifty stories up. It seemed so strange that only a few minutes had passed since he was there and now looking up at the rows of identical windows he didn't know where "there" was. This also was of little concern to him. There were countless times where he didn't know where "there" was or how much time had actually elapsed. He shrugged and grinned slightly as he made his way down the steps and turned on the sidewalk, walking down the street to the commuter station. He didn't even understand how it worked. As he walked past the alley next to his building he looked back at the black spray paint graffiti on the side. It was large and in all caps.

PAY TO PARK. PAY TO LIVE. PAY TO DIE.

No one worked these hours anymore. Most of his colleagues worked through the night and caught the first commuter of the morning. He was alone and waited under the small shelter knowing that it wouldn't be long. The commuter was like clockwork. Never early, never late. It never stopped, never accelerated, never decelerated. He opened his briefcase and pulled out his route recognition vest and slipped in on over his head. It was like that of a construction worker, but electronic, and the built in sensors gave it a very reflective quality. On the bottom left hand side of the vest was the keypad. Route 126 was the way home. He saw the commuter making it's long gliding turn up the street and stepped closer to the magnetic rail, waiting for it to pass. As it did, the ray of light from the gun mounted to the side struck the sensors on his vest. He shut his eyes and the rain stopped. Wiping the water off his face, he looked up at the commuter station sign. COMMUTER STATION ROUTE 126. His apartment was three buildings down.

Dog Days

Crazy day of house hunting in the Eugene downtown area. I have found in my "adult" life that being stationary is no way to be. A year in one dwelling is about all I can take. The hunt lasted until late afternoon and ended with me sitting on a friend's walkway enjoying cold refreshment. These days always end this way. It is too damn hot outside for them not to. On the way over I walked through a field behind a school district building and had a deja vu moment. I remembered walking through a field in my dream last night, but the grass was a lot taller. I got to a train bridge with a crowd of people on the other side. They were in a park that appeared as though it had been used as a camp by drifters for years. It was evident that these people had no homes. They spotted me over the bridge and didn't say a word. They just stared and all waved in unison. That was it. Just another strange flash. That's all I have been having lately. I feel like I am not anchored in anything in sleep or in waking life. Maybe it is not such a bad thing or maybe it is just my "fuck it" attitude. Either way I am refusing to carry extra weight. After I have migrated there will be a house warming party. Make sure you get on the list.

In A Pedestrian's Travels

Today on my way to work:

Items found:

Wildlife encountered: One black cat, one pigeon, countless blackbirds and crows, and five squirrels (two dead).