D.O.P.-T.

I opened the front door at 4 am to a scene out of The Spirit. Thick fog hid the neon across El Camino - I could see the orange streetlights on our side, like candle flames. Water was running somewhere - I turned my head and saw it spreading in a great oxbow out of the alley between our building and the next, fed by a drainpipe off the roof of the nameless Japanese restaurant - washing the dirty asphalt.