Momentary Blindness
Momentary Blindness
Hannah Ziomek
I found a little ledge to lean on. I close my eyes and I hear voices shouting all around me. Everyone is yelling in an attempt to beat the roaring noise of the crowd. I listen closer and I can make out the far away beating of music, probably from some bar a ways down the street. Thuh-thuh-thuh-thuh. The beat lines up with the footsteps around me and it's hard not to feel overwhelmed. I try to focus on what I smell instead but it isn't pleasant. The smells of alcohol and cigarettes and fish all are melding together to form a repulsive cloud of desperation in the air. It smells like I shouldn't have eaten the chowder I had eaten just five minutes ago. It seemed like a good choice at the time, warm and inviting on my tongue but now the smells and sounds of the current moment have my stomach reconsidering. I reach my left hand back and I can feel the grainy brick which I am leaning against. And once again I feel the beating of the music but this time instead I feel it through my fingertips. The beat was coming from behind me, how did I not notice before? I trace my hand across the wall letting the warmth of the building spread to my pinkies, which have lost feeling from the cold. People are still walking by me. I can hear their shouts get louder and then softer as they get farther away. I'm thinking about how this was a much better experience when I could look around. Now I just want to go home. It's just too gross.
12:25 pm
Saturday, February 2nd
Location: Downtown Saratoga (Chowderfest)
Hannah Ziomek
I found a little ledge to lean on. I close my eyes and I hear voices shouting all around me. Everyone is yelling in an attempt to beat the roaring noise of the crowd. I listen closer and I can make out the far away beating of music, probably from some bar a ways down the street. Thuh-thuh-thuh-thuh. The beat lines up with the footsteps around me and it's hard not to feel overwhelmed. I try to focus on what I smell instead but it isn't pleasant. The smells of alcohol and cigarettes and fish all are melding together to form a repulsive cloud of desperation in the air. It smells like I shouldn't have eaten the chowder I had eaten just five minutes ago. It seemed like a good choice at the time, warm and inviting on my tongue but now the smells and sounds of the current moment have my stomach reconsidering. I reach my left hand back and I can feel the grainy brick which I am leaning against. And once again I feel the beating of the music but this time instead I feel it through my fingertips. The beat was coming from behind me, how did I not notice before? I trace my hand across the wall letting the warmth of the building spread to my pinkies, which have lost feeling from the cold. People are still walking by me. I can hear their shouts get louder and then softer as they get farther away. I'm thinking about how this was a much better experience when I could look around. Now I just want to go home. It's just too gross.
12:25 pm
Saturday, February 2nd
Location: Downtown Saratoga (Chowderfest)
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