SLOW MOTION WATCHERS
My new neighborhood being the tame, domestic corpse that it is, there isn't much by way of variables. Things seem pretty constant, and that constant is a still collection of quiet moments; the deafening absence of energy that by comparison makes ones most minute spark of excitement seem a cambrian explosion of living, raging plasma. Against this canvas of silence, every sudden deviation from normal seems supernatural. Which is why in the mornings, while walking to the train station, I sometimes am relief to see a certain young man...you may call him challenged...Retarded, is the word I really want to use but everyone is so PC and generally overly sensitive. Retarded, and yet Accelerated would better fit to describe this, either young looking man or old looking teen. His head jerks around and he looks about as if just let out for the first time. He slaps leaves on branches and runs across the street even when he has the light. There is a parking lot everyone cuts through to sneak some seconds off their morning walk to the station, there's a sharp corner that hides the coming from the going--and at this twilight, I noticed he seems to rev himself up for the stage at this isolated parenthesis. He runs, jumps, spins, dances, really lets loose. Its great to watch and I, as well as others observe, timid and jealous, wishing we were as accelerated as he.