immaculata

:shiny: :white: :light: like riding an outline
a ghost and a cloud::an angel phantasma

the bike riding is my favorite. it is my new favorite. how my feet learnt to slip into toe cages without a glance. how i hear in surround sound. the do-si-do of my compatriots in the bike lanes - are you going faster, i pass you-okay, now you pass me, shall we wait at the stoplight 2 abreast? click click click my gears - me and bike and road, micro adjustments subtle swoop missing manhole

and the mind. the mind's favorite time, so happy to be with the body. moving.

today, mind and legs working easily, down empty street.
an unexpected friend calls out my name. well, hello, summernight surprise.
and later riding home, two lanes over, the guy and girl on motorcycle ask the taxi for directions to nearby restaurant. he doesn't know. but hey, hey i do, free air neighbor.
and continuing on, the last stretch, but my least liked (though somehow more favorable after nightfall), not too fast on the slight incline

whoa, wha, boom
i got doored
from the left
holy shit

a momentary jolt. but it's just my handlebar. i'm fine. really, i'm totally okay. the woman exiting passenger side was more traumatized than i. both she and the guy driving looked at me with horrified faces. "i'm okay - i'm okay" i pedaled forward a few feet. see?

i love it

hello operator, give me number bleen

8 minutes till the bus comes, so i head out the door, down the block, 'round the corner. hop on the sunday evening, uncrowded 24. up front is a shaggy slightly dishevled corduroyed guy. asking for reassurance from the operator when the bus stops at diamond. celltalking. i'm listening to music - the 24 line makes me a particularly evil readingsick. we got on at the same stop. his question makes me think he's not from around here.
then i go to the movies with the guy who sold me my bike a few weeks ago.
standing in the mezzanine, fishfry calls up to me from the lobby. earlier in the day i thought about inviting her to see the film with us - she would like it, anime about dreams. but she's here to see something else.
afterwards we walk back to the busstop, only a 2 minute wait.
music back on. a friendly operator who waves me past when i'm fishing for my transfer. one guy greets him knowingly after hopping on; they chat it up. down in the castro, shaggy cords gets on again. oh - smiles. sits crosslegged near me. he's got a worn greyhound luggage tag on his backpack (a-ha). after a bit, he moves up to the front and begins talking with the operator. i exit at the front of the bus, and i am wished a good night.