Being low on funds and ideas I set off on a walk to a place I had no idea existed, or no idea where it was. I left my apartment, and walked for a few miles. I kept looking for something interesting. I walked to the downtown area, then over the Charles river into Cambridge. Nothing caught my eye. That isn't to say there wasn't anything to look at. I'm easily amused, but nothing was new.
As I was walking along some train tracks, past what appeared to be old warehouses and some type of facilities buildings I came upon a lonely lawn chair sitting on the side of the railroad bed. Its back hunched over a bit and its legs stood thin and brittle. In front of the chair a flock of birds congregated around the puddles and mud holes chirping wildly. I stood there, feeling alone yet calm.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from a college friend. My friend James died. It wasn't suicide, drugs, or foul play. As far as I know it was natural cause. I looked back at the chair, then at my phone again. I slowly wheeled myself back around the way I came. This wasn't an artists date. It was just a bad day.
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