Tuesday, December 15th, 2020

Two strange sculptures appear in the city square. At least I think they’re sculptures. Smooth white tubes rise a meter or so from the pavement, then split into four limbs each, ending in points. It’s as if a pair of artificial squid have crash-landed head first amidst the benches, or a pair of giant albino jesters have lost their hats. Coming back through the square after work, I intend to look more closely at them, but they’re gone. There is no sign that they had ever been there. I wonder briefly if they had actually been part of my vivid dreams last night, crawling into my sleeping mind along with triangular slugs and the trains that I rode, both inside and on their roofs. Nothing seems out of place in the square. The caregivers and elders aren’t around. They tend not to show up on evenings when there might be rain. A family stands and sits where they usually are, taking each other’s pictures with their phones. The box from a selfie stand rests next to them, with a pole that holds a ring light and arms for phones and tablets. I got one myself a few months ago. I haven’t yet used it. I thought it would come in handy for part of my film project. That image has fallen away. I think of getting some pizza or a falafel but decide against it. I have what to eat at home, and I don’t want to risk the rain. I’ll put some dinner together there, light the candles, get some writing done, and finally watch a movie that has been sitting on my drive. If it rains and the power doesn’t go out, I’ll listen to it and read.