wireless vs. disconnected
I walk the streets and look at everyone walking so slowly and staring down into illuminated hands. Their faces, too, are lit up and blank as they stare into their hands. They shuffle along with bowed heads, waiting for a message from lit hands.
Sometimes we collide. They curse me for not watching where they are going.
I will always be a stranger in this city. My ears are open. My face is dark, my hands unlit.