I am glanced at by a man with a pair stylish earphones containing a shiny brass exoskeleton. The interconnecting strap of the speakers spans over a dark brown newsboy hat (sorry, I really don't what else to call it). Really, the headphones look like an attempt at retro, especially in conjunction with that hat. Makes me wonder of he's got some large platform spinning a shellac "78" on his lap. Knowing people nowadays and their stylish affectations of yesteryears who knows? It could be true. You just never know.
Anyway, I stroll by while returning the glance and head to the seat wondering at his sudden curiosity that would pull him out of whatever sentimental funk he's got himself into. Oh yeah, this wonderment is lost though, so utterly swallowed up by the noise the tires make on the worn highway. It evens everything out with it's entropic tendency. It spreads thin anything that would otherwise rise to the top. The swells and depressions are all flattened. The truly great or lousy is obscured by the mundane statements of the obvious and mediocre proffering of idiotic intrigue...
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