A strange and strangely aromatic alcove at Balboa Park Bart Station.
A narrow space on the right (unseen) provides a foot of distance between your tender shoulder and a slowly oncoming K train or M train or whatever they are. Forced by circumstance to the left, you enter Odd Lover's Alcove, its nooks and hollows cemented with freshly-liquefied garbage. Soon you will come upon the hot dog stand with the two flat tires. The hot dog stand that cannot go anywhere.
Those three letters inscribed in indelible pastel pose neither a question nor an answer but merely a suggestion (hence, the arrow) that has been taken up time and time again. Between certain amputation at the red hands of a slow train or braving with a grimace the scented, cement-sticky darkness of Odd Lover's Alcove proves to be the Scylla and Charybdis of every Balboa Park Bart commuter, including myself.
7 years ago