I'm sitting, and I sit upon a chair and my feet rest on maybe a foot of concrete. There is a speed bump that transmits the weight of each car through the concrete, shaking it, up through my feet.
It feels unsafe.
At the very least, it's not a comforting feeling: as if the firmament upon which one stands will suddenly break under the weight of distant and transient, but very present, giants.
And still, people carry on as if this were normal, and I'm distracted by the revelatory details of a sago palm planted in a concrete planter here in this San Francisco shopping mall.
