Camera clicks and high-five claps careened recklessly off the buttes. A workout paid for in sweat; buckets and buckets of sweat. No different from any other Wednesday. Except.
Perla was there. Her shirt was on point.
Concrete steps reached out zealously, thirsty for blood. Still we ran them. Up, down. Going nowhere but here. No different from any other Wednesday. Except.
(Jade) Andrew was there. (S)He wasn’t cloaked in black.
Wyatt stood tall, an unwavering heroic pose undeterred by the bitter taste of spray paint. No different from any other Wednesday. Except.
Wyatt was not manning his post. The burden of celebrity pulled him away, admirers insisting he accompany them in yearbook photos.
The tribe gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Copper dirt finally allowed to rest, the light dancing as dust tumbled to the earth. No different from any other Wednesday. Except.
It was Chris Worden’s birthday. He failed to notify us. He will dance.
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I had to move my car… I didn’t want to get a ticket. Honest!