Disquiet
The smell of smoke and burning plastic wakes me up. Avoiding panic, I get out of bed and check the stove and the refrigerator and the air conditioning. The house sits quiet in the dawn sunlight. Quickly close the windows. Outside in the parking lot ash falls around me. A tension in my forehead begins to grow from the smell. My eyes scan the disquiet, gray sky for the source.
No. 101
Exposure
“My friend and I had gone to Jackson Hole. I packed all the gear and we hiked around for three days chasing the light. We followed our whims and photographed anything that inspired us. The flow of the light, animals, leaves, trees, the trail. The last night I’m exhausted, packing the film rolls in the dark. A flashlight goes off, and I start panicking, thinking all our hard work was ruined. I told her and cried. When it was processed, it was totally fine. But that’s how sensitive it is. It’s a risk, but a beautiful one.”
No. 100
Boarder
Home for the summer, a neighbor boy rides his skateboard every night. The rhythmic rolling of the wheels sounds before the thump of impact and the sound of steps as he regains his footing and prevents a tumble. This irritates the dog, who sends barks in the teen’s direction. He gathers his skateboard and goes to a side road with a steeper grade. There he can find his balance, gain speed, and build his skills without criticism.
No. 099
Flight
Three birds came over the mountain and swooped into the space between hills. The late evening sun illuminated the sky in purples and oranges. As they crested an apartment building, the bird leading turned and snapped at one of others, who then turned and hid among the bushes. The remaining birds climbed into the air again and barrel rolled together between the fronds of a palm.
No. 098
Ledger
A Victorian fringe table lamp with green shade and walnut base. ($5; kept from grandmother’s last belongings.)
A piano tie left in a loose windsor knot. ($0.50; bought for a costume and worn half a night.)
A compact charcoal grill. ($30; used once, but the burgers burnt and lighting the charcoal left high anxiety.)
Two tennis racquets, one coming undone and needing stringing. ($15; stopped playing when the wires broke. Someone who knows how to fix bought.)
No. 096
Asleep
Windows down, the calming sound of ocean waves crashing carried him into sleep. The easterly wind came through the open windows, cooling him, forcing him to pull a blanket up to his chin. Carried along it came the shrieking cry of a mountain lion. He sat up quickly, heart racing, sweat breaking out on his forehead. The follicles on his arms contracted, sending goosebumps down the flesh. Through the rear window he looked out at the mountains, trying to determine the location of the mountain lion. Instead only the stars greeted him.
No. 095
Intersection
A neighbor placed a tripod in the middle of a four-way stop intersection. She stood in front of it, giving a speech about something, her muffled voice unable to travel. Between her and the camera, her three-legged dog lay on the asphalt. Work trucks and sedans drove around her as she kept her focus on the camera, refusing to move or acknowledge the busyness of the neighborhood.
No. 094
Crouch
At the indie house show, a girl crouched down to feel around on the wooden floors for a ring that slipped off her finger. She had been fiddling with it, sliding it up and down, and then lost her grip.
The guitars quieted, the bass and drums landed on a smooth rhythm, and the lead singer approached the mic, instructing everybody to get low. The band started up again, and as the singer worked his way through the bridge, the crowd began to crouch, slowly, in time with the music. This distressed the girl, who found it more difficult to find her ring.
As the song continued and the crowd jumped back onto their feet, she got knocked onto her side, where a glint of metal appeared beneath a barstool.
No. 093
Manhunt
The helicopter swooped low in the sky, then banked, rose slightly, and hovered above the high school. Cop cars already blocked the roads, southbound and eastbound. A group of teenagers mingled on the grass between them, arriving too late to get to class. An hour before, two students raced down Olympic, swerving in and out of lanes. Screeching to a stop in front of the school, one of them pulled a gun and chased the others onto the campus. When they arrived, the officers began combing the schoolyard for the hidden students.
———
Over a bullhorn a cop instructed a man to drop his weapon. He had attempted robbery of a fast food restaurant, but companies don’t leave as much cash anymore, and the managers that had the keys to the safe were not on shift. He ran out to the road as the police rounded the corner. He placed the gun in his waistband and slid down an alley between apartment buildings as the whirring blades of a helicopter appeared overhead. The searchlight illuminated the dark alley as he removed the gun from his waistband and let it fall to the concrete.
No. 091
Grindset
His coworkers listed their side hustles: website creation for local small businesses, crocheted objects, painting, poetry groups, grassroots political campaigning. Spencer began to feel inadequate, as if the hours spent outside of work should’ve been utilized, also, for monetization.
So he brainstormed and ordered an ice cream machine. He began to draft different recipes, ordered several dozen empty pints, and dreamed of a table at the Hollywood farmers’ market. As the first batch sat in the freezer, he created a spreadsheet to calculate the costs poured into the endeavor.
But the first batch came out a soupy mess. He threw it away, then stared at the box of pints and the machine and the balance on his credit card, wondering if it was ever worth it to try.
No. 090
Sprinkler
Buildings in the neighborhood automate their sprinkler systems to activate during the night. Under cover of darkness the grasses, bushes, and palms are kept lush.
Near midnight, one of the sprinklers malfunctioned, or had been damaged, and sprayed a wave of water twenty feet into the air, passing the lowest-hanging electrical line. Gallon after gallon of water fell into the road, then ran along the curb, down the hill, and into the sewer.
No. 089
Diurnal
Afternoon, late spring. A neighbor’s overgrown garden sits in the shade, chimney covered with a tarp for months, chipped bricks piled at its base. From the weeds a coyote escapes, stepping gingerly between the plants and debris. The animal thin—it moves slowly, pauses to turn and look at us with a sense of disorientation behind its eyes. The sun shines off its pale grey coat as it returns to the shadows.
No. 088
Grade
The RV blocked about two-thirds of the street. It descended from a side road that had a grade of around 15% leading into the hills. As it came down to the flat main road, the rear half of the RV smashed into the rising slope, rendering the vehicle stuck. The driver and his passenger exited the cabin and stood beside the front of the RV, directing traffic around them as they waited for rescue.
No. 087
Arrival
With a turn of the key the engine quiets. He sees the pacific through the windshield, sun approaching the horizon line. Driving all day, then all night, then all day again. Muscle fatigue set in, glycogen stores depleting. Stale air, recycled air-conditioning, comforted him at first, and now left his stomach sick. As the car rests, he begins to hear the rhythmic coming and going of the waves. His eyes roam to the rearview: pale brown mountain range hiding everything behind them.
No. 086
Courier
The courier stood on the ground floor beside the main road. He left the medium size box addressed to me on the ground behind him. Passersby headed to the boutique grocery store; buses ran along the street feet away from him; coworkers crossed the walkway toward restaurants.
I stood on the second floor landing above, waiting for him. Others entered and exited the main lobby. With each new person I looked to see if one or another may hold the box I ordered.
No. 084
Stoppage
Traffic bottlenecked behind two empty cop cars and an abandoned SUV, hazards signalling the malfeasance at play. This forced cars to merge down to one lane at rush hour. A hundred feet farther, a third cop car sat in the parking lot of an apartment building. Four officers hung around the car chatting. Flashing police lights illuminated the slowly darkening street.
No. 083
Recovery
J. approached the microphone, prepared to address the day’s volunteers. A gray shirt, he had been a successful alumnus of the program. Stepping out of the shade he became blinded by the midday sun. Then, his spiel: the drive to California; living out of his car; totaling the car; becoming addicted to meth; bouncing around dens; hard sleeping; finding the center; starting the program. He thanked the founder of the program, and explained the job placement and apartment placement process. He was two years clean. The sunlight in his eyes prevented him from making eye contact with any of the volunteers, upper-middle-class office workers. He considered it a blessing that he could speak freely without judgment.
No. 082