Wind

My hair, longer than it ever has been in my life, is blown across my face, and i can see it through the 17 dollar glasses i picked up at the mall before i left to study abroad. It is warm, over eighty degrees, but the wind makes me feel completely comfortable. I stare nowhere in particular, just wherever my eyes landed after i set my neck. My thoughts are blank, thinking about nothing, the wind billows my shorts, and continues to make my hair dance on the glasses. The only sound is the minute played by beer cans, also blowing in the wind. 13 and a half floors up, the buildings of Clayton rise in the distance, creating a second skyline of St. Louis. Now, some thoughts begin to play in my head, half formed memories attempt to sort themselves out, but i ignore them, letting them run, play and stretch out in my wide open consciousness. Croakies rest reassuringly on my neck, holding down the hair on the back of my head, a seemingly eternal distance from my eyes,