It is a Tuesday evening in late August. She wanders through various streets linked to a canal that divides the district in two halves. Her thoughts are diffuse and further inter- rupted by looking at her phone relentlessly. Even though she assures herself every time that, in fact, not much is happening to afford such habitual discipline,
she continues swiping perpetually loyal.
The physical and mechanical repetitions of the day had left her mind somewhat absent; a stained glass, the physical world outside impressed only as schemes in soft outlines. Her inner voice was howling at a distance, somewhere, raucous noise lodging no meaning. Traffic signal intervals lead her through two-laned streets with pauses on traffic islands. The crossing is repeated three times, seems unnecessarily long, and quietly alters her slumbering pace.
She recalls a scene about a year ago when she had met a friend for coffee on the street parallel to the one she was on a few blocks to the south. She remembered her friend was afflicted about a meeting with her partner on the other side of town. Mirroring the tension, their conversations ran in and out of focus, her friend’s attention further undercut by answering text messages alongside. Soon, the mobile phone’s battery had run its course and somewhat relieved her friend turned back into the conversation as subjects took greater shape. As there was more to say than one or two coffees could outlast, they began to meander around the neighborhood IN INCONGRUNENT paths. Seemingly unconscious of her orientation, she was curating the route, avoi-