|
Sonya
|
I stood at the corner of Market Street and New Montgomery Street. It was the end of a grueling school day, the sun was setting, and I had to get back to the main campus building to put stuff into my locker. However, even though I also had a bus to catch, and several hours of homework to do once I reached home, I stood there and twirled. Yes, I twirled. The weight of my black backpack and my giant art tote didn't bother me. People passing by looked at me strangely but kept on walking. I figured it was because I was in San Francisco that no one thought much of my behavior since anything is possible there. I twirled and looked up at the skyscrapers. In every direction I saw frantically walking people, buzzing cars, and a plethora of glass windows. I inhaled the flowers from the flower stand that was nearby and I could also smell the scent of the freshly printed PM newspapers. I noticed pathes in every direction. I could walk underground to the BART station and see so many nameless faces. Each one held a story. Each one held treasures to unlock. I looked out at the expanse of downtown that was waiting before my eyes. If I walked up Post Street I could end up in Union Square. I would be surrounded by all the stores and sounds of prosperity, and yes, greed.
If I decided to continue west on Market, I would run into yet more intersections that would lead me into the recesses of this intricate place. People get the idea that when you go to San Francisco you're supposed to do and see as much as possible. You'd be amazed how much one can absorb just standing on one corner. It's almost enough to carry you away into the wind like the faint echos of the cable car's bell. I have more to discover, and I shall. Perhaps you might run into me some day...twirling on a corner.
|
020114
|
