Today I passed the lady who wears her hair piled in a top knot. She must have been told once that she looks like Katherine Hepburn, as I have never seen her without that iconic hair style. She also favours the back lanes, it seems.
I like pretending that I am lost in a new city, as I let the meandering lanes lead me in loops and switchbacks of fences and garage doors. There are no straight lines in the suburbs. But there are dogs who warn me to keep walking buster, and there are kitchen windows that gaze blankly at empty patio furniture. I like being removed from the drone of traffic by a single row of houses, artifacts of the great oil epoch. But mostly I like looking into the lives that people choose not to show to the world.