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Postcard
It’s a foggy afternoon on Geary Blvd. I am late for work and step outside just in time to miss my bus and when the next bus comes it is not my bus this bus is bright red and shiny not like my bus at all this bus is two stories tall and in big yellow letters across the side it says San Francisco Sunshine Tours this bus is packed with people with faces pressed to windows and a man with a microphone stands at the front pointing and telling them things the people stare and take pictures with digital cameras maybe the man with the microphone is telling them how this all used to be graveyards and sand and here on your left is the Seaview Liquor Store (from which you can’t actually view the sea) and look quick and you’ll see the elderly Russian lady counting dimes for a bottle of cheap red wine and here is the hung over man late for work and look he left his fly undone and the people take their pictures and I wave hoping maybe to become somebody’s postcard to send back home to Kansas or France or wherever the fuck and then the bus is over a hill and gone and I am left waiting for my own bus which will arrive too late like always. |