From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
The plastic of this Transformer toy feels cheap and brittle against my palms, yet the store clerk wants nearly a week's worth of bread money for it. My oversized sweatshirt is pilled and damp with sweat as I dodge the crowds, my head spinning with news of the Tribune’s soaring profits while I’m stuck worrying if gas will climb past a dollar-nineteen. That Billy Ocean song, "Caribbean Queen," is blaring from a passing boombox again, and though the beat is awesome, I can't stop checking my watch. I adjust my scratchy spandex leggings and hurry home, certain that every flickering headline marks the end of the world as we know it.