Tuesday, September 20, 2016
The sunset fills with puffy clouds that shift through hues of oranges, blues, reds, and yellows as the sun fades. The city is bathed in this light for most of the late afternoon, and now everything sinks into a pale gray. There is a cool breeze that shuffles through the neighborhood occasionally shuffling a discarded section of the newspaper, maybe rolling an empty plastic bottle toward the sewer drain.
It’s a pleasant evening in a place that doesn’t always see pleasant things. And there are more people than usual out and about. The evening seems perfect in a calm and gentle way. Most in the streets don’t notice this lull in the sharp edges of this city. They simply feel the need to be heading to dinner, going toward some shopping that they neglected or simply to visit the park.
It’s 7:30 and just when the sun gives up its gentle lulling of the city, and sets behind The Victorian, a loud pop jumps from one of the street light generators. The entire neighborhood is suddenly without power. A few turn their heads in the general direction of the sound, but after all it is a city.
For you, gentle readers and writers, the day starts here, in this evening, in this way.