"The sun asks permission to rise again. It is permitted." [Bukhari:V4B54N421]

I left the mosque early today. Too hot and crowded in there, I felt an attack coming on. Nobody missed me; this isn’t the first time I’ve had to slip out. The asthma subsided after a few minutes. Instead of returning inside I sat upon a bench in the children’s playground.

It was no longer night.

I arrived early this morning and the sun had risen while I was inside, but it was still low. I let it ascend a few inches before I turned my eyes, looking across Dusty Bluff to the shantytown that graces the northern side of Wilshire Tower. Those people… the beggars, the criminals, the sinners. The children…

God will save them one day.

My aging bones won’t move if I don’t move them often. So at that time I stood. With no place noteworthy to visit, I walked to the corner of Katz Avenue. No, I don’t own a car, but a hundred must have whizzed by me in the minute or two I spent idling at the intersection, debating if there was a point in crossing to the other side.

I decided to linger on this side for now.

Where are all the cars going, anyways? Work? Home? Who’s got to go somewhere so urgently that they must drive? Who is that busy? Why are there so many cars, so many busy people? So many people? Are they important?

They kid themselves.

I found myself facing upwards, staring into the underbelly of that overpass on the west side. It mocked me with its altitude, so I found the hill leading up to it. It was steep, but I dragged my body and got my clothes dirty. I hurried my climb, because I wasn’t the only one going up this morning.

I was racing the sun.

I made it to the top. Staying on the wrong side of the railing lining the overpass, I scooted along the narrow walkway towards the center of the bridge. There were cars here too, but I didn’t see them. I was facing the wrong way. I was looking over the city block I’d come from.

They were so small down there.

Just as I reached the midpoint of the bridge, the sun peeked over the top of Wilshire Tower. I could see the shadow receding. There was the herd with their coffees. The mules of society. The congregation dispersing to walk the earth. It was a humbling experience, once in a lifetime.

I’m lying. I’ve done that before.