monday morning hopefuls

The streets all with soft clean shaven faces at hard angles in the reflection of glass, city life came out brilliant and optimistic on a monday morning. Lovely. Even the brisk walkers had a sparkle in the eye, for they were done languishing at home for the weekend and wanted in on the gamble of a bull market, if not to hedge a bear. Pinstripes and creases ironed out flat, and parts held accountable. Enough after shave lotion to make a lady swoon. Must have been a first-rate contender, an economic boom. Nobody was gonna jump to their death off a high rise, today. Nobody needed to check their watch 'cause it was way before nine. These were the early risers, the hopefuls, out early by design. Time would wait for them. They could stop and open a paper wide, old school. They could have a flirt with a barista, share a laugh with the baker, face all white with flour, popover in the big oven. They could get their goddamn shoes shined, and time would still lag far behind! Leave the taxi at the stand. Take the long route through the park, into a new and prosperous land.