continuous hit music

a street, at night

Don’t talk to me after the film. I’m too busy processing. It’s the little

things that stir up your stomach, making you re-evaluate what you’re doing.

Pushing the question. Asking you “so, what now?”

I walk past endless cafés and bars, each one playing continuous hit

music. The taxi plays continuous hit music. A dark grey horsehead cloud looms

in the sky as we head down the road.

I’ve been walking in the rain. I know what I have to do. But the first

step’s always the hardest one.