Mental image.

Let's all play a game. It will be like the PBS show with the afro/sideburns guy telling you to paint "playful little trees" all over your picture. I'll tell you playful little images, and you pop them into your playful little head and let them swirl around until a nice, thick shake comes out.
I am sitting on the porch tonight, which is not an unusual occurence. If the weather is nice I like to plant myself in the self-proclaimed "observation tower" and watch the general populace of Walla Walla stroll by as I sit reclined in my plastic lawn chair like Lex Luthor sitting in his high-rise watching the ants of Metropolis scurry by, plotting how to kill his nemesis Superman. The only difference is that I don't want to kill anybody, I just want to watch them walk around and hopefully amuse myself along the way. A particularly playful game I like to play is ascribing context to the small snippet of each person's life that I see walking by. A man jogging at night with his dog? He must be blowing off steam after a fight with his girlfriend. She wanted to stay in, he wanted to go to the bar with some buddies or whatever.
Tonight I saw a peach of a passerby. A young man, probably no older than 25, walked hurriedly past the apartment with a determined look in his eye and a four-pack of some fruity alcoholic beverage, likely procured from the beer, hotdog and pornography store on the corner, the Apex. Now, what do YOU think a man of that age was doing sprinting away from a corner store with a four-pack of wine coolers? That's not enough for party...