#an empty crushed an deformed can of coke

[sgkjd]

i feel. bad.

[sulfurousdreamscapes]

"How can a place be dangerous?" he asked, camera in hand, strap around the back of his neck. "I don't think it's possible. People are dangerous. People in certain places are dangerous. But places? They're not dangerous." The smug smile on his face should not belong to a twenty-one-year-old. But alas, he was a boy.

"You know what I'm talking about," I said. The street was empty, and there was no canopy of trees to make me feel covered and safe. Just tall compound walls on either side, and a harsh sun above.

"Safety is an illusion, and its presence is like gravity," he started, and I slowed down so I could roll my eyes freely without him noticing. "It's strong in places, and weak in others. But it does not correspond to real safety. In reality, you're not safe anywhere. Not at home, not in the streets, not in a plane, not even in outer space."

"Yeah, you're right," I mumbled and pulled out my phone, checked to see how much it would cost for a cab back to the campus. I was skipping classes for this? To hang out with a wannabe philosopher taking artsy photographs of what, street lights and sewer grates?

"Look at this place," he lifted his hands and let the camera drop to his chest. "It's so surreal. It's right here in the city, but it's so empty. It's... I don't even know how to say it. I'd say it's just magical, but that's such a cliché."

"You're describing a great place to get mugged or kidnapped, my dude," I said.

He scratched the light beard under his jaw. "Isn't it fascinating, though? It's just a street, a place, with its own deformities and peculiarities. Little imperfections, here and there, like that chipped pavement, or maybe a street light that doesn't work. Faded paint on the road. And all you can think about is the people who could pass through here. Bad people, at that."

"Uhh..." was all I could manage at that point.

"There's good people, too. People like us, you know? Think about them, sometime. Think about how their very presence graces this empty street."

"Do you ever listen to yourself talk?" I asked and stared at him in the face now.

He met my gaze, but smiled. "I take it I went too far?"

"Yeah, no shit, man," I sighed. "You're a walking Instagram account full of naive, optimistic quotes."

"But you'll think over what I said? About places, and people, and danger, and safety?" He looked so earnest that it was impossible to get mad at him.

"Yeah, whatever," I sighed, and noticed a group of men emerge from the end of the street. Four guys. Heavy-set. Laughing amongst themselves.

"Look, let's go," I said, touching his arm. "Like, right now. I don't feel safe anymore."

He'd noticed the guys too. He looked at me, and then at the guys, and then at the goddamned crushed Coke can on the pavement, the one he'd aimed his camera at a second ago.

Then he nodded at me, and we started walking back to where we came from. Away from the dangerous place.