The Master of Ceremonies pulls a phone from his pocket.  He taps on it and then holds it up to the scene and so it’s how you see it now the view from a camera phone in a somewhat steady hand as it pans from the street cars slowing to witness what’s going on into the carwash parking lot passing over the three police cruisers lights flashing blue and red the horizon for a moment the sun slowly sinking casting its fingers in the sky then the Cadillac the black matte finish dull and un-reflecting the window half-way down on the passenger side and Carter sitting there staring straight ahead while the cops behind the car gather to go over the papers the camera phone zooms in as best as it can on the inside of the car the audio feed excellent as Mary Jane reaches to open the ash tray where Carter’s e-cig had been charging.


Don’t open that the roaches are in there.


As you go down the road you don’t notice if it’s not your destination and then when you’re looking reading the signs looking into every parking lot into every shopping window you wonder how you ever get there with so many choices so many places looking for your business people inside with stories and how you may walk in and be helped immediately and other places may have a line and a pissed off employee behind the counter and just like a movie set is an un-worldly vain self-serving thing so tempting in its glamour so is everything on that road asking you to come in and join a world that will go up in smoke as soon as you pass by as soon as it passes…  You are not touched by what you see on the road.  It takes your eyes the touch of a hand.  And you feel it when it happens. The transfer of energy. And when it happens nothing really has to be said it’s just like a mutual silent comfortable okay.