16.8.13

*** Sidewalk Weekend! ***

Sidewalk Rating: Pleasing

On this day as I walk toward the library I notice a small open sign at the parking lot’s Fifth Avenue entrance.  The cones are missing and there are three balloons tied to the top of the yellow entrance box.  Like my mother’s hand on my shoulder or the appearance of a stray cat rubbing against my leg, my heart suddenly breaks into pieces.  It’s a nice gentle break, though.  A soft, dull and wistful hurt.  Three balloons announcing the quiet arrival of a new parking lot.

I wonder who’s job it was to get the balloons and where you can still buy balloons downtown.  Was it an afterthought to put them there?  Were they a sincere gesture?  I picture someone in a blue city-issued uniform asking for a few balloons, maybe from a florist or a dollar store.  Just something to light up a drab corner where there once was something and now is nothing.  Maybe as a tribute to the old YMCA, a brief memorial.


[Stuff coming out of the half-demolished Gillette Building, downtown Saint Paul.]




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