Something’s wrong with my watch … again … it keeps skipping ahead and I’m disoriented because I feel like I’m moving quickly, despite the evidence presented by the atomically- correct, constantly- updated device on my wrist.
At 15, I recognized the futility of trying to standardize the moments we experience and gave up wearing a watch for 30 years.
They’re useful for catching trains, but beyond that, I’m skeptical.
Because I can, I take a different path today, down a street into what’s called The Design District.
The sidewalks are wide and cobbled with tastefully small pebbles that won’t trip up even the highest heels. The sycamore trees are tall and the broad green canopies shade buildings that look as if they sprung into existence last week.
The illusion of order and peace comes to an abrupt end at the next street where the sidewalk disappears and I have to thread my way carefully through construction and cars in various states of motion.
A series of reflections in some windows appears to be trying to spell something out, but I’m in too much of a hurry to read it.
What did you see?
#mymorningwalk
