La la la…
I hum to myself.
We walk down Old Town, like we’ve done many times before. The city is in motion; cars move, couples drink wine outside of restaurants on sidewalks, singles walk to unknown destinations. No one is still, not even the sky that’s now beginning to form rain drops.
In this dark night, faces illuminate this quiet town. Their smiles and grins make me happy. A man makes music from wine glasses that are half-way filled with water. He plays a Chinese song as he swiftly moves his fingers across the edge of each glass. A girl next to me has tears in her eyes. She too thinks it’s a beautiful melody…
La la la…
The houses we pass by are mesmerizing. Or maybe it’s what we perceive them to be that’s mesmerizing. Or maybe what’s mesmerizing is the idea of owning these houses and standing on their balconies while holding a cup of coffee. Otherwise, a house is just a house…
So…La la la, that’s what I hum as I make my way through this town, as I watch little children and think I would never want to have one, as I watch parents make their way through…
These little stories are real. This city and these faces and these cars are real. The moon is real. I don’t write fiction; what I tell is real. I’m always trapped in reality whether I like it or not.
Sometimes humming la la la makes my realities endurable, even beautiful…