This morning I rode my bike (Henceforth known as The Hedgehog) to Silverlake. Five miles took me thirty-five minutes and I'm surprised to discover I'm in pretty good shape.
My bike is not a sexy road bike. It's a massive mountain bike, handed up to me from my kid brother. It suits me - probably too heavy for its size, not much to look at, but a real trooper.
The Hedgehog served me faithfully. I was surprisingly fearless, even busting a left turn or two. I had been afraid that I would...be afraid.
I spent the other evening at my friend's house in Silverlake. He found a dog abandoned on the park and brought it home to take to the shelter. Real handsome and moderately well-behaved, so he should find a home rather soon.
We tried to guess his name by calling out cliche dog names for a response. He perked his ears at T-Bone. T-Bone it is.
This is my friend's dog. Her name is Bella.
Things have been more down than up - I really need a job.
There's this weird abandoned restaurant on the corner of the shopping center where Trader Joe's is. Everything about it is as it was the day it closed. The tables are dressed with salt and pepper shakers and bowls of coffee creamer, the signs outside advertise breakfast all day. Flies hover in the air, the buzz of their wings soundless to the world outside. There's a bus stop right outside. And the buses come and buses go.
Can't help seeing myself in it.
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