Curbside Daydream

You sit on the curb in front of the entrance to Walgreens at Snyder and Broad and your eyes move north from McDonalds to T-Mobile to H&R Block, Popeyes, Dunkin Donuts, Rite Aid . . . you wonder which does more business, the Walgreens or the Rite Aid.

You fade into the curb and travel beneath concrete through the Broad Street Line into the earth and then emerge above ground in the place where you began but now the stores are all gone, replaced by open space and a stable where horses look up from their hay and show you their teeth.  Time does not exist and you don’t feel your heart beating as you breathe.  Ben Franklin walks past you, tips his cap and continues chatting with a burly man walking beside him.

You turn your head at the sound of a basketball bouncing and see Charles Barkley come down with a rebound and turn at the hips with elbows out, brushing stick figures aside.  He passes you the ball and when you try to catch it, you miss and it disappears and Charles gives you a stern look before he runs for shelter from the rains that suddenly pour from the sky.

You stand to get cover and then realize it’s not raining and the horses are gone, but the McDonalds is back.  You look at your watch and note the time as you stare at its ticking hands.