The bottom of my foot was leaking from a puncture wound as I sat on clean stained carpet near a high deck off a living room floor. I wrapped a old cloth and taped around it to stop the bleeding while my father sat there showing off the latest in crypto currency storage. With one ex interacting with my child from the next, my sister cooking in the background, everything felt peaceful and safe. Everywhere I looked had a view filled with an alien symmetry of chaos, a foreign mathematical artistic intelligence like nature could decorate a space with the things humans have built and forgot about.
The sky was bright yet thick and the color of faded tie-dyed tee shirts and the ally ways were tight with everything stacked and aged, leading into open spaces, things seemed clean with no one there to clean it. We all shared walls and halls of old wood beams, glass, and steal, books and antique toys, tools and teaching supplies, nonoperational service elevators converted into gardens, rope swings hung from receiving dock cranes, I don't recall any locks and few doors, everyone there had free time with a purpose.
I caught the attention of a competitive muscle man who at first made me nervous but all he was looking for was someone to win a game of how far can you throw this ball with.
While the two brilliant intellectuals squabbled over air space for their kites, I kept strolling through the town taking in the as much as I could, satisfied but wanting more.
I met a drifter that found a home shoveling constant flowing mud from a walk-in container, he loved and respected even the little insects and with him i felt a kinship.
Mud in my wound and Bondo covered hinges irritated my OCD immediately but the atmosphere took over and quickly I dismissed it.
