work-in-progress

He was the kind of person who had this way of not quite finishing _____.

And then, to start all over again felt as unattainable as ____.

But the park bench beckoned him to ______,

as his cellphone lost its signal and thus all connection to _____.

But soon after, he came to realize, it was just about time to  ______ (the car. i think it had something to do with the car.)

That must have been what awaited him, which probably explains why _____ was sitting in the back seat, smoking her 2nd to last cigarette.

That’s where it all started. And nothing could convince either of them that this was not the origin of all things broken and unbroken.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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