YOSEYVA

In these times of isolation, waking up and seeing the sun shining on our living room grass makes me feel comfort. I sit here on the deep red couch, watching the clouds change their color, now moving through the sky with hues of pink and orange. The sky is still blue. The roommates and I took a walk today. Coffee in hand and crocs on securely, the 29° welcomed us as we made our way down the street. We walked to the train tracks, surrounded by infinite forgotten treasures. Countless tires, broken mattresses, a landline, a Vivitar in a case that was too small, the top part of a Jeep, children’s shoes (only one of each pair), a busted box TV, and on and on and on. Continuing our exploration, an unmarked white SUV drives up to us. A man, who tells us he monitors the train tracks but shows us no identification, asked us what we were doing up there. We told him, innocently, that we were just exploring. He warned us of druggies and that if something ever happened, nobody would find us. When he asked us our names and birthdays, we all felt the urge to lie to him, but none of us did. His excuse for asking us our information was that it makes it look like he’s doing something while working. Telling us to go back to the street, he drove away. Up and over the tracks, never to be seen again. We make our way out. Walking down the hill past more tires and drywall, there’s something else. 1 exclaims, “MICROSCOPE!” as we try to avoid the mud. They run over to find out they’re right. A child’s microscope! Small and colorful, now living with the rest of the abandoned objects. We walk out, empty handed and laughing back home.

I want to take a moment to acknowledge my privilege when dealing with law enforcement officials. Thankfully, nothing happened to us, but as a group of white people, we really didn’t have anything to be concerned about to begin with. Additionally, and just a funny side note, I’m pretty sure he thought we were in high school (we are not).