i saw a little girl, maybe 4 years old. 5 perhaps? with a blind persons cane.
behind her was her mom or teacher.
she was learning to walk with the cane.
it destroyed me.
sweetest cutest littlest girl and all the things she wont see ever.
i said to myself, you have nothing to complain about ever.
when i passed that scene for some reason i looked back
and when i did i saw the little girl had tripped over an uneven part in the side walk
and she fell into the grass.
her little legs now above her head and then back down on the grass.
and i died again.
got to work. did work. ate lunch. did more work.
afterwards i drove over to century city to pick up rich people and movie agents.
got a ping at one century west, the most luxurious condo in LA. rihanna lives there.
i got three siblings. all very nice. mid 20s. we talked about china where one of them is in grad school.
we drove through some residential streets in beverly hills, hitting it off beautifully.
sisters in the back seat, couldnt have been nicer or prettier.
brother next to me, jovial.
until we saw two orange cones in the middle of the street.
and a teenage boy sitting on his skateboard with his hands semi covering his eyes
grief. but why?
as we got closer to the cones we saw why.
a squooshed black cat.
squooshed forever.
his cat.
gone.
and right there.
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