Weekends are meant to rest, and I rested. Besides church, I stayed inside much of the time. The week before sank a lot of energy from me.
Today, it was quiet, even though Mondays are usually a-bustle. The crowds came, bought a few papers, and moved on. Like troops marching, they shoved past the weekend, past my corner, tossing quarters, grabbing Tribs and Sun-Times, and disappeared. Surreal, like zombies, waiting for Rod Serling. Rod never came around and told me it was not real.
As news goes, it was slow. The Bulls won in overtime last night, but no one really cares.
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