Its wrapped in plastic
Thick and gray the sky casts little light on the morning. Wet leaves leave a shadow on the pavement after they have blown away. Sidewalk and sky are the same color under my feet and above my head, Brief bits of seasonal music drift out of doorways as it shuts or after its opened and glittery tinsel are hung from scraggly trees. I shove my hands in my pockets because I am too lazy to put on my gloves and try to keep my head down blocking some of the wind. I worry if I bought enough money for the meter ticket thing and am unfamiliar with how they work as I hate to pay to park and rarely do. I contemplate doubling back to check and then decide my horoscope said I would be lucky today and persevere toward the shop I want to browse in. My feet are unusually heavy and not use to my winter boots. It feels like I am walking in space boots. I am worried about dark energy that is holding the universe together and keeps it expanding. If I close my eyes could I feel gravity and its affect on me if I was concentrating really hard?
Looking down at the ground still I notice sensible shoes and a plethora of shopping bags leaning up against green thin polyester clad legs and cast my gaze upward to watch an elderly woman wearing too many coats peel away the clear plastic wrap surrounding a holiday themed snack cake. She turns her back to me and stuffs it into her mouth, chewing it, hiding in the corner of the doorway.