It was 8 pm., dark, and wet. I hopped off the train and marched down the platform - the locomotive grinding the rails beside me then away. Sound - sound - sound. The hum of the fluorescent lights. The flop and splash of leather soles in new puddles. Cars passing on wet streets. I had a rough day. I fixated on chilled cheap peach flavored wine. I have three big bottles in the fridge.
There's something very calming about Central Square. The antique Clock glowing in the night. Big Scoops ice-cream parlor, closed, simple, cozy. Raw Arts, a sliver of a building yet it dominates the square like a beloved older sister prominently displaying her pierced belly-button. But the Gulu - the Gulu has class. The kind you find in an artsy funky cousin in his 30s. It sits on the ground floor to the right of my lobby. The nice little bench right in front. I leaned over to peek in the window just to see what's up. There's Steve and Marie hanging out with some friends/customers chatting away. Steve has this infections and impish smile. Marie's smile warms the room. They're perfect for each other. Steve waves, Marie smiles, music jamming in the background. Probably Gregory - excuse me - DJ Amour, spinning in the back. I wave back and walk up to my home. The day just doesn't seem so bad anymore.