I zig-zag across busy roads. People push and jostle against each other. Everyone is going somewhere. Seems like everyone has somewhere else to be.
The streets are gritty. Dirt gets in my mouth and sticks to my clothes. It stains my skin. My thongs slide grimily against my feet. And I’m walking. I’m walking like I’m going somewhere. It’s the only way to avoid the touts.
‘Miss! You want to buy…? Miss! You want to go…?’
Thing is, I’m not going anywhere. My thongs are sliding against my skin for nothing. Nothing tangible.
And there’s something about that.
I catch little glimmers of real life and sidle up against them. Unnoticed. Watching. Veiled by anonymity. Covered by the thick air that melts days into nights. And she lets me in. The city. She folds me into her seamless chaos. Lost in crooked streets. Found in the rawness of her soul.