Vandals incorporated cracks, lingering in lightning-bolt directions, about City Hall’s concrete walls, into their compositions.

Situating horizontal darkness to represent Frida’s unibrow, overcasting her stern expression, holding court to brief glances. Entering to pay parking tickets, or demand the mayor “do something” about an intersection frequenting accidents, lacking the appropriate command posted in White and Red, to trigger stimuli in basic consciousness overtaking.

Approval lurks in paranoid nostalgia.

Main St. recollects a drunken stumble home, before I reached my doorstep happened upon a woman biking. She stopped, smiled and said hi. I returned her greeting with my own. We began discussing the dangers associated with meeting strangers after midnight. In meta contemplation obliged the waning discomfort, exchanged in our pleasantries. No longer strangers afraid, but neighbors welcoming good company. We only knew that little bit affiliated to self.

Rumors explained she died from taking too many pills.

Ego suggests if we had gotten to know each other better…I…

Memories posit the ultimate fantasy; a world designed strictly to our experiences. Reasoning a friend’s rudeness is due to something I had done.

Or that the police are following my car.

Electric jelly sheltered inside hard bone burns our reality, we cast ash to the winds, to carry and cover artful unibrows, created by accident for all to appreciate.