First Avenue, 9:30 am



I have vague recollections of a weird space of time each weekday where I stumble toward a rumbling monster, climbing into its mouth and finding it filled with scary zombie-like creatures heaped against each other like hollow rotted logs awaiting a use that never came.

Then, moments later, I am spewed forth onto the wet concrete only to seek some semblance of shelter in a large box…a box filled smaller boxes filled with more similar creatures staring at flickering squares of light and moaning noises reminiscent of curses…

Is that this “morning” thing you reference?

No…can’t be…

© 2009 D. Kessler