I love the twilight rainwashed neon glow of the city after dark, when every street glistens and the very air is charged with electricity and... magic. Down darkened streets I walk through the last tattered leaves of fall, misted memories swirling between my feet, eyes shining. All around me the city is charged with wonder and light, and within it I am as spellbound as a child, or as a forgotten teenager who every day ventured warily from a Horseshoe bay ferry into a quite different world. I can still taste that emotion, and these days -- these hectic, barely held, fleeting days -- these days I feel it again, and the feeling illuminates each similar deja vu backward through nostalgia. This moment is my city's best, this sparkling shimmering mottled moment of brilliant anticipation, and through the shadows of duthie street I am laughing.
Hi-Fi on the walkman, and I reach the 144 bus stop exactly as Zither transists to So Fast / So Numb. The spilt second coincidental timing ignites some long-faded soul spark, and I close my eyes, lost for a moment in a fantasy larger then myself... elbow crooked around the burnished aluminium signpost, I fly perfectly around in a half circle, feet skimming the curb below. When my eyes open, I am standing reversed to the street, gazing down. And I blink hard, for in the sidewalk beneath me are the solid letters "REM", inscribed with careful hand into the once-wet concrete. This is here, this is now...