Yuan. Crossing of paths. Moon through bathroom window. Seattle.
Took a spectacular sunset walk after a week of driving twice daily through rush hour traffic.
First there was the red bunny, leading me towards the sunset just past our house.
Then a perfect clanging bell. Must…record…
Soon after that I passed a very drunken guy & another guy out cold; the drunk one told me the other had been beat up, and a hundred meters later I passed a clenched up guy muttering ‘it doesn’t matter’. I figured he might be a mate in the match.
At the corner store I picked up some bottles of water. I try not to buy plastic, but this was an emergency.
Started walking back, and the mysterious Saba’s salon was still open, filled to the brim with stupendous stone and glass sculptures and fine drawings. He was in there, grinding away on stone with a mask on. Since we’re neighbors, I finally introduced myself. Saba’s from Iraq, part Kurdish. ‘Touch the sculptures’ he said. I touched basalt & marble, and looked around. Really fine work! He’s a stone master. Told him of my heartbreak about Iraq since 2003, and of tonight’s mission to return to my own particular war zone with water to aid the downfallen. I continued on.
The same prone guy now had his head in the middle of the bike path, dangerous new position and still down for the count. I touched his neck, at least he had a pulse. I gently touched him and talked to him and he didn’t respond, so I poured water over his lips. Slowly he came to, hungry as fuck. I had no food, just water… After a while he raised his head, and stared blearily and confusedly at me. Who is this? Finally he sat up and moved to the side of the bike path, a little better out of danger.
I continued my walk home, big fat moon on the rise blasting me when I rounded the corner.
All kinds of parallel universes in the course of 30 minutes.
I love Seattle.