The hiss of my walkman can’t drown out the street noise or the spiraling cost of living; fifty cents for a loaf of bread feels like a robbery when the rent is due. Between the synth pulse of Stevie Wonder on the radio and the clatter of those new Macintosh computers in the shop windows, the world feels totally loud and fragile.
I’m shivering in my layered sweatshirt, clutching my ticket for *The Terminator* while hoping the machines aren't actually coming for us next. Everyone’s distracted by fancy literary parties uptown, but all I can hear is the frantic ticking of a city that's getting too expensive to survive.
Memories from that day
No memories yet. Add yours if you remember this day.