non-linear story
by Daron Murphy

One day I was in New York City, walking down the street by myself. It was summertime--very humid, hot, sticky. The air was colored tan. I was on my way to work.

I looked uptown. Along certain avenues, sometimes you can see for maybe 80 blocks. But not today. The air uptown looked even more disgusting than the air downtown. It was as if the end of a giant, soot-stained Q-tip (or fish tank filter) had landed, spaceship-style, between the huge skyscrapers, then dissolved itself into an all-encompassing, surly cloud of toxic imposition.

For reasons I can't explain, this dark cloud attracted me. A man was selling bagels from a tiny reflective metal box on the sidewalk. I bought one (bagel)--poppy seed with cream-cheese. "I can eat this as I walk toward the cloud," I thought. Then I bought a beer (22 ounces) and a carton of cigarettes (Winston). The beer (Budweiser) was wrapped in a brown paper bag. All the things I bought were delicious, and good to walk with.