As I left my apartment, I noticed the concrete was wet and the sky was grey. It took me a few moments to make the connection with “rain” since no water was falling at that moment. As I approached Flamingo, it began to sprinkle some. There were more bums around the Maryland bus stop than usual. The rain seems to bring them out like the waterlogged worms that stain the sidewalk. Three were sitting between Buffalo Exchange and whatever that dive bar is behind the Nevada State Bank. They had some odd bicycle with a trailer attached to it. Chatting and smoking, they didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Ten feet from them, another man was lying down, huddled in his meager denim jacket. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing but didn’t care enough to disturb his slumber. Of course the bus was late, but so was my connection so it worked out okay. Exiting the Pecos bus, I got to see a fucktard in a mustard yellow truck fishtail as he turned left from Post Rd to Pecos and almost face-plant into an oncoming bus. At least that got me to laugh and forget about being late. The rain kicked in just as I walked through the door.