More difficult now to walk down than to walk up.
Far more pressure.
Contrary to thinking, with what the mind is making of the world on a morning walk when the sun shines and walking is as close as he can come to the practice of no mind, walking past a silver Lamborghini at rest in the carport of a house in Pacific Heights, wondering what the person who wanted such a thing might look like, which is contrary to thinking.
Coming upon the rear of the tableau, not the front,
and seeing that the shadows agree
with this perspective.
Walking backwards, buying a sugar-free mocha and smoking an American Spirit cigarette
for a reason that is no reason at all, then finding a seat in the sun to watch passers-by until time
comes and walks him back home.
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