Saturday Light

Pack a haphazard bag, all you need is pen and paper; the expanse of the West will provide the rest. Board up the nooks and crannies where the mouse may holiday on your behalf, water the plants. Book a cramped middle seat on an overfull flight. Keeping a body in constant motion is the only way to keep its brain still. In Brooklyn, the cherry blossoms start to bloom. In Glasgow, a band plays a sold out show without you.

I ordered a pair of new headphones, big over-ear shells in tacky design, and played Bach cello suites and Mozart symphonies until every last sound of the world was drowned out. I went out into New York later, but like an alien drifting between the happy Saturday night masses. How easy it is to fall out of humanity. How hard to remember why you try.