A Gift
The sun descends behind the mountain, changing the light. The breeze adjusts its mood, brings a chill into the canyon. A man in a sport coat opens a metal gate to a bungalow hidden behind a manicured bush. Leaving the gate open, it’s easy to watch him place a single tulip on the brick steps. He knocks three times, though I cannot hear it. Returning to the sidewalk, the metal gate closes slowly, then latches with a click. Sunlight briefly illuminated the tulip as the man stepped away, then it disappeared from my sight.
No. 111
Gone Fishing
Middle of the workday, forced to confront the millennium. To transform data—1s and 0s—into a DNA sequence—ATGC—and save as a dehydrated dust. Resting on a shelf for 500 years, 1,000 years. Fast-forward: who’s there? To place a capsule on the shelf is to say, Yes, I believe you will survive. It begs more questions than answers. When you cast a rod, you don’t question whether there will be fish.
No. 110
Exclusion
George grabbed a seat in the back row and laid his coat across the seat beside him. He had asked his friend, M., to join him. “Keeping my options open,” was all he said in response. George knew what that meant and decided to attend the film screening alone.
George arrived early, as per usual, and picked at a bucket of popcorn growing-cold. Other patrons entered the theater, took their seats, and the room filled up around him. He enjoyed the dull hum of a crowd and listened in on the conversations.
Close to showtime, George watched M. enter the theater with a pair of friends, whom George disliked. Laughing, they took seats across the room. George sunk low in the chair and pulled the coat over him. As the lights dimmed, he found solace in the darkness.
No. 109
Passage
A father hoisted his toddler onto his shoulders while waiting to cross the street. The intersection had a North-South crosswalk on the opposite side; he waited for the signal to cross before having to wait to cross again. Growing impatient, he decided to make an effort on the side with no walkway while the light remained red. He stepped into traffic, and halfway to the other side, the light turned green. He did not speed up his gait. Instead, he made the oncoming traffic wait for him while his son sat atop his shoulders oblivious to the situation.
No. 108
destruct
An elderly woman lives in the house on the corner, has for decades. The trees on her property had grown tall and lush; they left her yard in constant shade, a shadowy grove hidden behind a rickety, white fence. Over time the wood has rotted. A handmade wooden stand holds empty glass bottles filled with rainwater. Orchids nestled in the crook between branches grow wild, are beautiful in bloom when the speckled sunlight finds its path between mottled leaves.
Landscapers for the week have parked their trucks, radio emitting the same playlist every day. They cut down the canopy in the back and piled branches along the roadside. They dismantled her tall fence and began to replace it with sturdier, darker wood. They culled the previously-wild front yard. After the work, any passerby can now see straight through to her front deck. The rattan chairs coming apart at the joints. The glass table holding a ceramic ashtray, several burnt stubs interred. If one stopped to look closely, they would see the yellow eyes of a rat, opossum, or skunk through the holes in the damaged planks.
No. 107
Stalled
At the end of the date, Spencer and The Girl walked back to his car. He parked along a side road in Hollywood to save money and walked to the restaurant. She took a Waymo. The date had been without incident, positive or negative, and Spencer was surprised when she agreed to go back to his apartment.
Coming up to his car, Spencer mumbled a quick phrase denigrating it: how busted; needs a wash; hand-me-down from his cousin. He inserted the key into the passenger door, opened it for her, knelt down and threw some papers and an empty bottle into the backseat. With an embarrassed smile, he avoided her eyes, then circled the car to the driver’s side. As he removed the steering lock, he turned and said: “I didn’t think you’d say yes.”
He turned the key, and the engine sputtered before stalling. His heart rate quickened. “Sometimes it takes a few tries.” He tried again, then again, then again. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll get a ride. Thank you for dinner.”
No. 106
Recorded
He arranged his phone atop aerobic steps on a set of black risers. The barbell sat in the walkout zone of a squat rack. He turned around, and gestured for me to take out my headphones.
“Do you mind if I record you?” he asked. Off my confusion: “I’m recording myself. You’re in the shot, is that okay?”
“As long as you don’t mind looking at me,” I said.
“I don’t care. It’s so I can check my form.”
I shrugged; he pressed record, hinged at the hips, and began to deadlift. I thought it was a good idea he decided to record himself.
No. 105
Remodel
A bought for sale stilt house in the neighborhood began undergoing renovations. They would, I imagine, tear it down and start anew, once they’ve cleared its insides. The layered brick driveway became ground for trash and debris. A plastic bag holding decorative rocks. A mirror lying face up, corner shattered, jagged scars running up the glass. A piece of paper reading only: “This page intentionally left blank.”
No. 104
New Hire
The new guy came up to our floor after receiving his onboarding information from HR. He spoke with our team assistant, detailing his drive from Chicago to Los Angeles. Three days across the country, no stops. I’ve known people who took joy in the trip, elongated it, went camping, stopped at the kitschy roadside tourist traps. The new hire speedran it, sleeping in his car. He didn’t sign the papers for his new apartment until the day before; the process had taken over a month. He was sleeping at a hotel downtown in the meantime. At the very end, he mentioned his mother and father, still back in Chicago, who lamented his leaving home for the first time.
No. 103
Solstice
An elderly neighbor carried a red umbrella onto her back patio. She carefully placed it in its holder, then with shaky hands lifted the central runner, stretching the canopy into its open position. Once settled, she used a frayed rope to tie the umbrella to the railing along the deck. As she sat in the shade, she listened to the wind and birdsong, the first sounds of summer.
No. 102
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