Сумерки

           andmorethananythingtryingtobeatdownmyhopesforSaturday,fearingadisappointmentmorepainfulthantherest,whenIlookeduptoseesomeone’ssilverVolvoparkedalongthestreetanditallcamecrashingdownonme.Stupid,unreliablevampire,Ithoughttomyself.

           Istompedalonginasoutherlydirection,towardsomeglass-frontedshopsthatlookedpromising.ButwhenIgottothem,theywerejustarepairshopandavacantspace.IstillhadtoomuchtimetogolookingforJessandAngelayet,andIdefinitelyneededtogetmymoodinhandbeforeImetbackupwiththem.IranmyfingersthroughmyhairacoupleoftimesandtooksomedeepbreathsbeforeIcontinuedaroundthecorner.

           Istartedtorealize,asIcrossedanotherroad,thatIwasgoingthewrongdirection.ThelittlefoottrafficIhadseenwasgoingnorth,anditlookedlikethebuildingshereweremostlywarehouses.Idecidedtoturneastatthenextcorner,andthenlooparoundafterafewblocksandtrymyluckonadifferentstreetonmywaybacktotheboardwalk.

           AgroupoffourmenturnedaroundthecornerIwasheadingfor,dressedtoocasuallytobeheadinghomefromtheoffice,buttheyweretoogrimytobetourists.Astheyapproachedme,Irealizedtheyweren’ttoomanyyearsolderthanIwas.Theywerejokingloudlyamongthemselves,laughingraucouslyandpunchingeachother’sarms.IscootedasfartotheinsideofthesidewalkasIcouldtogivethemroom,walkingswiftly,lookingpastthemtothecorner.