On the day of the eclipse I walked home. A young man who was very high looked at me and said “He’s—he’s—he’s so beautiful!” A young woman who was just tipsy enough to say hi to a stranger said hi to me. An old African man let me use his dark viewing glass to look at the sun. A drunk overweight man wearing nothing but a red tee shirt sat splayed on the grass of Alamo Square Park, swaying. Light through tree branches was dappled on a fence in the shape of small eclipses, drawing cameras from the pockets of everyone near.
- May 24 2012 | 1 Notes - Read More →
