Melba sat in the drivers seat in the sun. It was warmer inside than the outside cold air that hangs around Berkeley in the mornings. She watched the pedestrians around her, the skateboarders, pavement bicyclists and joggers keeping warm. Juxtaposed on the street were two men, one man was dressed in a blue shirt pressed and crisp as if in that minute it had been taken out of the laundry bag from the dry cleaners. He is talking on his cell phone, pacing back and forth in a 10 ft area. He is on the east side, with the sun shinning on him. On the west side is man in the black pea coat, he huddles in the mixed light, slightly blocked from the sun in the shadow of the building, he too is on his cell phone, he is not moving. She wonders why we all behave so differently from each other, why we don't always see the easy way, or why we don't always choose it.
Adventures aren’t all comfortable is what she’s telling herself, that’s why they’re called adventures. They’re up and down and much easier when you don’t drag around a lot of stuff to cope with, both in your mind and in your suitcases. She’s giving herself a pep talk, the type she’d give to anyone who would listen if they were doing what she’s doing. She’s fixing the moment because it doesn’t feel upbeat. It feels like she’s crying, though she's not and she’s not wanting to go there. It’s easy to get lost in a city and even easier to get lost in one’s mind.
The sun reminds her of last week, sitting in the car in Nevada watching the sun change the skies and tree's colors, even on the buildings, it's happening every few seconds. She drove around the parking lot twice, She's pressing the button on her new SLR. On the second drive around as she passed the adobe picnic building, she saw the reflection of the car after the fact. Then she backed up and from inside the car, it too warmer than the outside sun setting evening, she snapped the moment. It looked like a picture inside of a picture, that's the way her life seemed today, a life in someone else's life.
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