January Day

Walking home from picking up my groceries, I saw a golden retriever attempting to carry four or five large sticks in his mouth at once. He would meticulously stack them, manage to cram them in, walk a few steps, and drop one. Wash, rinse, repeat. (I know there’ s a metaphor in there, somewhere…)

Every Sunday, a group of East Indian 20-somethings get together on the college tennis courts to play pick-up games of cricket. They race around, score wickets, and generally have a good time. I don’t think I’ll ever understand cricket.

For the past week there has been a flattened and dehydrated pink condom lying in the gutter in front of my building. It was gone today.