Saturday, April 23, 2005

Night walk

A Russian market we'd never seen before ("Piroshki!" handwritten on the window); beautiful old brick service station that had survived at least one major earthquake; café advertising HAMBURGERS and SUSHI in neon; shiny red brick Chinese joint, the big round tables packed to the gills, a hundred families eating out, the waiters tripping from table to table, we stood outside in the dark, light from glittering chandeliers edging our faces; Aladdin Radio, open by appointment only, dark recesses full of depression-era cabinet radios, a crystal microphone, the walls papered with ancient ads.

A full moon behind the radio tower, clouds dragging across its face.

Tired men bent over the counter at the all-night donut shop, the smell of sugar and grease heavy on the street.


jay said...

I'm there, I'm there. I totally feel it. I wish I was there. I smell it.

Sylvana said...

Mmmmm! Piroshkis! *drool*