Midnight, stars out, rooftop in Mexico. Club music beats from down the street. Barbed wire surrounds the property. But the red clay rooftop is taller than that, and warm, and I stay there for well over an hour while the air drips with crickets.
Millions of cars passing by, and the people inside peer out at you. That moment right there is all they'll ever know you for. You could be the frowning mess crying on the curb, or the silly girl with a quirky smile. It's that moment, you know. Speeding down the road, and they look out for a brief /moment/. And there you are. Just there. They see you, but only for a second. And then they're gone, and that's all there is to the story.
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