Someone stares blankly as a stream of cars race down San Francisco’s 101 south in the middle of the night.
Weary from a long day at work, an apartment dweller watches from the small sun porch as the train pulls into the Granville station on Chicago’s Red Line.
A pensive tenant in Madison walks by the thermostat in the hallway and contemplates the impending cold weather.
In Lawrence, Kansas an irritated homeowner stands in the kitchen window as a rowdy frat boy leaves a frothy mix of Chipotle and Bud Light all over the trunk of the big Maple tree that grows in the middle of the yard.
They’re all places I’ve called home. All scenes or situations that unfolded in my life. Today, as I get to know the idiosyncrasies of my new apartment, I think fondly of all the addresses in my past.
Happy Friday. May your keys work, your sinks drain and your lives continue to evolve.