This morning the light was amber and fleeting; I still felt vaguely fatigued from jet-lag and my continuing dissatisfaction with almost every facet of my life in the modern (i.e., post-balloonboy) era.
I was cheered by the sight of a delivery truck marked with a single word — SNACKS — unpolluted by any trademark symbol. I wished that all advertising was similarly generic.
I watched a person cross the street and waited for the traffic light to turn.
I stumbled upon a rare but certain truth: SNACKS — EVERYBODY LOVES THEM.
The fading light reflected off the wet sidewalk, and I felt relieved to be alone in the city of my dreams.
