my bus pulled up at the corner of 188th and 3rd to let a race of wailing fire trucks slue ahead. i looked out and couldn't see smoke spewing from any building nearby. i only saw my face, looking lost, in the lightly tinted bus window.
just as i got home, L called me. he said he'll pick me up later for a drive, perhaps, along hudson since both of us are off from work this afternoon. i told him something came up at the hospital.
then i called my friend, the one who told me about my old flame moving to chicago. he was not at home nor did he answer his mobile. i was grateful that he didn't. later, when he'll see my missed call, he'd surely ring me back to ask me what i want. and i wouldn't know the answer to that.
i haven't been to japan, but someone-not this dense friend- told me that in shinto temples there, one doesn't enjoy the boon of looking into the eyes of any saint or idol. there are none. one is blessed only with the cursed honesty from staring at oneself in a simple round mirror.
