As I pulled onto our street from the driveway this morning at 7:45, something was off.
Sun warmed the trunks of the trees; leaves fell towards the gutters. (Southern California thinks January is a good time for autumn to begin.) But that was the only sign of life: I didn’t see a single car no a single person on my drive to work. Those new rentable green scooters stood lonely, abandoned. At the Metro station, no one. Not even a squirrel bristling along the thin strips of grass on the sidewalk.
It was like The Twilight Zone.
Everyone still tucked in their beds, nursing hangovers and dreaming how this year will be different.
And waiting for red lights to change to green and signaling my left turns, only me.
small life, slow life 