Sunday, December 30, 2018

Week in Seven Words #441

balconies
I walk past compact homes with cute balconies. On each balcony, there's a small circular table kept company by a pair of empty chairs – many little scenes set for conversations outdoors at sunset, a drink in hand, a view of the sleepy street.

bland
The shopping center is cold, clean, and gleaming. It has a vague cologne smell and an atmosphere of emptiness.

curiously
The sunflower peeks into the rear windshield of the SUV.

insightful
Sometimes, the people who understand me best are authors I've never met.

regression
I stay out of the discussion because of the rampant infantilization. The participants generally want to scream their point of view without hearing a bit of disagreement. Disagreement makes them feel bad. In the course of their tantrums, they threaten people's jobs, reputations, and safety.

scurry
When I step out the back entrance of the building at night, a rat immediately scurries past my feet, brushing the tips with its body. It disappears into the shrubs and not through the open door, I think.

toppling
At the gym, a man listens to a comedy podcast while doing yoga. He keeps laughing and falling out of position.