Night grass sky

The bus pulls in as the sky is breaking dawn. Pull on backpack straps, head North, then East, and North again; walk towards park lights. The phone is out, the host up, the door opens.

It’s back to bed until our alarm arrives: we all drive to get coffee. The afternoon brings Scrabble, the evening BBQ and beers. We make fast friends, share sausage and hamburger.

The night falls on the back yard, we change clothes, hail cabs, head to the Old Port. With one look at the line up and have the cab swing back and direct the driver towards a friendlier bouncer. We’re waved in and dance until dizziness begins.

On the walk home the streets are full of light and madness. Mutter to myself: this town doesn’t sleep like mine. Enjoy it.