Bus Report #857
Oh, San Francisco, our beautiful city, our filthy city.
Monday morning stepping off the 33 Stanyan on the corner of 16th and Bryant.
On the sidewalk, an old blue t-shirt smeared with human feces. More of it tracked across the sidewalk to the trash can. I stepped around it and held my breath so I didn't have to smell it.
Further on down 16th, the same flock of mourning doves I see most mornings, eating birdseed someone had set out for them. I slowed my pace and watched the birds for a moment. They cooed and cried and ate and were a beautiful antidote to the blue t-shirt.
Monday morning stepping off the 33 Stanyan on the corner of 16th and Bryant.
On the sidewalk, an old blue t-shirt smeared with human feces. More of it tracked across the sidewalk to the trash can. I stepped around it and held my breath so I didn't have to smell it.
Further on down 16th, the same flock of mourning doves I see most mornings, eating birdseed someone had set out for them. I slowed my pace and watched the birds for a moment. They cooed and cried and ate and were a beautiful antidote to the blue t-shirt.
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