A Day in San Francisco

Evening came slowly. The day rolled smooth like an old favourite radio song. Chilly and sunny, smoke bubbles came out of my muffler as I walked through wet leaves. The co-working spaces are already humming with activity. So many people, so much enterprise, so many things to sell.

Are any of these figures hunched on the laptop, feat sprawled on the chair across the table, selling their dreams. A tinder to match stranded moms with each other. An app to learn a dead language. Or social skills.

San Francisco is the land of e-dreams. Every few feet a door-sign displays a new dream. I walk home measuring my road in dreams: Straight past Harmless Harvest. Left at Grove. Finally, right turn and up the hill at Real Real. A cluster of unlikely ladies in chanel and gucci are smoking near the entrance. Thanks to cigarettes, smoking is cool again.

The evening sky is a beautiful sparkling deep blue. Across it, are strung so many lights along the Piers. And in the distance, the Coit tower stands stoic enough to withstand all the silly jokes hurled at it. It makes a breathtaking picture, but I have never been able to capture the glistening or the colours. Somewhere below it, a family of coyotes are getting up and about, and getting ready for the night.

At night, I hear the Sea Lions bay over the many blocks that separate us. Like me they are immigrants who were probably displaced by a catastrophic event and floated over to these shores, but cant quite make it all the way in. Or out.