Sitting on the balcony of my second floor apartment building, I drag my cigarette and listen to the footsteps of people walking by on the sidewalk beneath me.
Tat, tat, tat. Tat, tat, tat.
It sounds like it’s two people but I don’t care enough to look and see for sure. I just listen to the tat-tat-tatting until I can’t hear it anymore. Then it gets quiet for a second. A second more.
And then a car alarm starts wailing in the parking lot.
WHEEE-UR, WHEEE-UR, WHEER-UR! It goes on for a while. WHEEE-UR and WHEEE-UR and WHEER-UR’ing.
I finish my cig and smush the butt of it into the sole of my shoe. Makes it smell like stale smoke and burnt rubber. Then I remember that I brought a beer out with me and I find it on the ground next to my feet. I pick it up and take a pull. It’s already kind of warm but I keep pulling on it anyway. Fuck it.
WHEEE-UR, WHEEE-UR, WHEER-UR!
Tat, tat, tat. Tat, tat, tat.
I think about going inside but I’m not sure what I would go in there for. I came out here because I was bored in there. Only now I’m bored out here, too. Bored everywhere. Or I’m just having a hard time doing nothing. I’ve always had a hard time with that. Always felt like there was something that had to be done, even though I know that I could do nothing forever and it wouldn’t make a damn difference.
I take another sip from my drink and I take my bowl out of my pocket. It gets quiet again, and this time it lasts for more than a few seconds. Maybe a few minutes. And that’s ok. It’s all ok. There’s nothing that I have to do.
LOU RASMUS 
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