The strawberries were very nearly mashed into juice by the hot walk from the Penn Quarter Fresh Farm Market Home, but no matter. I had intended to make them into popsicles. I couldn’t resist the bouquet from one of the farmers.
The hunched over woman lit a cigarette. Another man bummed one from her and leaned against the trash cans to smoke. Smoking helps make the bus come–right?
Nowadays, I contemplate, or chant, or stand on one foot, or maybe post a blog entry.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.