Traffic cop. The buildings wore this weather as a wet dark cloak. One of those nights where nobody looks up. What would be the point of that? The blackish blue was reflected in the bubbling mirrored film laid out on the pavement. You could see a fun house version of yourself walking forward upside-down in it. The sound of each footstep and rolled around the inside of the umbrella half dome with the rumbling tracers of cars, trucks and transit . The lost leaves had broken down and banded together in brackish clumps to try to hold back building torrents as they rolled toward storm drains.
The cabbie was early and impatient so the drive seemed unfocused and borderline dangerous. The wipers were set too slow and this annoyed me. This should be a skill that one masters after so many hours at the wheel. Do you tell a cabbie that his wipers should be set faster? Do you tell him he brakes too late? You can give directions or ask them to slow down or speed up but how far do you take the finer points? I saw the lime green dayglo jacket of the traffic cop from way back. he didn
