Day Cover; Lunch; Worked Late

A beautiful fall day it was today. A cloudless blue sky like the inside of a very old piece of glazed pottery. The temperature was in the low 70s in which you feel neither chilled or warmed.

On the way to work this morning, I saw a flock of birds flying westward. I was too far away to tell if they were geese. Their jagged vee formation moved swiftly across the sky, and they vanished within minutes.

At lunch I sat in a corner of the deli and listened to the chatter of voices mixed with the music. It was like being a character in a Robert Altman film. I would pick up a few words from one conversation, then it would quickly fade, and I'd hear a phrase or two from someone else.

I'd brought along "The New Yorker" to read, but I stopped after about 15 minutes. So I sat and watched the crowd. There's always an ebb and flow of varied customers: moms with babies; college students; medical staff; business people; retired couples, families with the kids; blue collar workers. I didn't notice anyone who struck my imagination. Even I did, I don't know what I could do about it. I guess I could throw the salt shaker at him.

Worked late I did. I was stumbling around in the middle of a web project, and figured it would be easier to finish than trying to re-start in the morning. When I exited, I realized it was dark. I didn't see anyone about. There was a slight breeze and shadows were dancing against the walls and across the asphalt. The only thing missing was a loud rusling in the tree limbs above my head.

PAX!