I was riding the bus, watching the ever-changing ballet of humanity every couple of blocks. The monoliths of downtown served as the background for this world stage. Bright sunlight danced and shimmered from the steel and glass, casting strange shadows upon the concrete. A bag covered a bomber of dark beer and I a had flask of whiskey hidden in my pocket. One must be surreptitious when having a roadie on public transportation. Perhaps I felt like getting drunk, I was riding a bus through the monoliths of downtown, after all.
I was awake. The air outside was cool as I let the hounds out. Jasmine tea was steeping on the stove. The monoliths I beheld were the eleven and twelve-thousand peaks, which wall this part of the valley, sometimes, I joke, like a fortress. Bright sunlight shimmered upon rocks and last remnants of snow up top, casting gentle shadows through the trees. The contrast between the dreamtime and awake got me to smirk slightly. Some say I'm all about dichotomy.
I calculated which trail I was going to go wandering. The idea of roadies, whilst entertaining, is best reserved for roadtrips, and that is not part of the day's scheme. There would most likely be wine with dinner, but that was later. There were other things to do first.
I'm going on walkabout...