snapshot of the city:

it’s late. maybe around 2 or 3 in the morning. the august heat had settled into a light haze hovering just so above the pavement. just so as to catch and magnify the orange of the sodium lights. just so as to make a warm glow all over.

i am just off the bridge. brazenly riding my bike in the middle of the deserted, narrow streets. i am completely enjoying the freedom of the hour and the slight chill of my sweat mixing with the amber moisture in the air. my hair being slightly lifted and tossed with my movement.

turning down eldridge street, edging into chinatown, i hear a high bell. a sweet ringing out. one. two. three. i can’t place where the sound is coming from. then, there it is again. like a call from the sea. it’s lonely so late at night, looking for company. i slow down and there it is! the source. a store front a blaze in golden and red lights, a solitary monk. his insence buring, perfuming the heavy air. his bell chiming calling for lost souls.

i slept easy that night.