I have posted no textfulness here lately, as the full-size keyboard broke and I have done nothing to replace it. The phone is what should be replaced first, then the keyboard.
Strange time this afternoon on Review Avenue, which is perhaps a strange spot to be in the first place. Vacant of its usual activity (it is Labor Day) the warehouses and garages were idle and the street was shockingly silent. Sounds of cars rattling the Kosciuszko traveled far. I do not think much of fear any more but the Avenue was eerie in its silence, and I imagined it gets stranger still at night.
Several young people have died on that street. Drag racing has been commonly done there for years. An acquaintance of mine directed a documentary about a 20-something year-old drag racer who was the smart one among that tawdry crowd. He was supposed to go to college and leave drag racing behind, as the documentary was supposed to show. Half way through the filming of the documentary the young man murdered his parents and hanged himself while imprisoned on The Barge.
He drag raced on Review Avenue, as did some others whose names I have seen on makeshift memorials on the side of that street.
Today Review Avenue felt still, vast, and eerie to me.
The air is much cooler.
Other things transpired this day but I can’t peck the words onto this little qwerty keyboard any more.
