Here we go, taking the lane on Peachtree Street. There are other things that happen when you take the lane in life. Just sayin’.
I run into so many protests on city bike trails I ride. So many tears.
Honestly, don’t ask. Like, seriously. It’s a rabbit hole filled with chains that you don’t want to go down.
Not to simplify things by any means, but just a thought I had on the train this week . . .
I get so many great books from Little Free Libraries. And, yes, yes, I donate my share as well. Don’t nag.
Almost every night the sound of a keyboard or ukelele wafts through my home. Because I live with this person. This single is from her first album. Her specialty is layering. She writes and performs every part of every song. Her equipment is basic so, yeah, there’s a wabi-sabi to it. She likes that. You can sample the eclectic mix she has created here. She is working on another album. I get to witness its birth.
So the public pianos all over Atlanta have been fun. Except, maybe, this one.
I left without saying goodbye. I never called. And then I see her in the damn pouring rain and I hide in my car? What kind of man does that? What kind of man does that? What did she ever see in me, and why did it scare the hell out of me so much? (See more Street Shorts here.)
What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. What they didn’t know about me meant I couldn’t hurt them. Not this time. So I just sat quietly, buried under the balloons, and waited for my stop. (See more Street Shorts here.)
Well, that’s a nice way to greet daybreak. (See more about public pianos here.)