Monday, June 23, 2014
I like watching storms. I see a front moving in. I drive up to the top of a hill—a few blocks away from home.
As I pull into the cul-de-sac, I see an "X" on an embankment.
Windows XP is no longer supported.
An ominous front, it moves fast. Pink and white blankets in the foreground are discards from a tryst, I reckon. At night, city lights sparkle along the horizon. This is a lovers' lane.
Getting soaked, back into the car I go.
Original contents, © Bob Rosinsky, All rights reserved.
June 3, 2014
The battery in my Kindle died. … Boredom. Then I saw this fellow sitting on a bench, eating lunch. Do you think he is a steward? I have a hunch he is. I presume we were both being watched by one or two video cameras. I like taking pictures inside terminals. Privacy ain't what it used to be.
If you know the identity of this gentleman, pray tell. I want to give him a signed, artisan-quality print. Since I neglected to ask him to sign a relaeas form, this picture is not for sale.
Now I want a sandwich and chips. Instead, I'll take two Tums and go to bed. Sensible.