they heard music and walked to the Plaza to watch a troupe of Native Americans dancing for a crowd of tourists. a woman with shocking white hair was laughing
into her camera. the music came from an antiquated boombox the size of a small Japanese sedan. the city floated on the earth’s crust like a plate of cheese nachos.
watching Zïzëk expound upon the death of capitalism when the router crashes and turns the philosopher into frozen pixels leaving the rest of us with something to do