Morning Glory

A rainy morning buzzed with the sound of birds chirping in trees as rain splattered the gray asphalt below, pooling and forming dirty, pebble filled puddles in potholes pock marking the Avenue. The sun was up and so were the townspeople, moving to and fro. Little beige men and women with dark tresses, wearing clothes from 1990s era Midwestern closets looked up at me, the tourist,  towering above, moving with them, snapping pictures of the new world as I discovered it.


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