and it starts like this i look through the glass know every detail of the facade yet nothing that's behind what light bounces from life passes by in a blur but this view is immobile it is my permanent backdrop still and stoic as the vortex sucks the details into oblivion
swarming with the commuter shoal this morning through the crowded concourse i was on course for an architecturally-haired young man wearing a cheap ill-fitting suit who was staring at the cleaners' cart from which he was maybe eight men apart at this point the soundtrack in my cans began the gentle drum roll intro to a tune the timing could not have been more opportune i watched as the young man raised up his empty take-away cappuccino cup and with laudable insouciance and a quick half-disguised flick of his wrist propelled the rubbish toward that bin slowly trundling away from him and as i watched as that tumbling cup fell the music in my ears started to swell and as i watched it glide into its goal without touching the sides the song kicked in its first sforzando chord i had to fight my hands not to applaud the young man's stony face allowed a tiny grin of triumph in celebration of this win
literally as soon as this happened i thought that i finally had a way to use this title supplied to me by the lovely @likecrazypaving