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About Basel

So. This one time. Met a gal. Called herself Ruby. Real name? Who knows. Prolly not. She’s workin’ corners. Downtown. Smokin’ cheap cigs. Eyes like. She’s seen ghosts. Told me. She got robbed. Twice. Last month. No kiddin’. Pissed me off. These lowlifes. Preyin’ on her. “There’s no more time.” She says. Quotin’ Polanski’s film. Like it’s her life. And damn. It kinda is. Blew my mind. How she connected. That shit.

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Srsly, can we talk about how those urban greens come off? It's like the silence says more than words, echoes of past memories, sometimes maddening, sometimes so soothing. Sometimes I stand there, thinking "Eat my shorts!" when a bugger rushes by messin' up my chill groove. It’s all so vivid, man—life ain't perfect, but every cranny of Uster speaks to ya.

Truck driver arrested for fatally striking Brooklyn cyclist in May: NYPD