Every city has a pulse. And Chicago's, normally a steady thrumming pump, has quickened with the advent of advent. The weather too, the unseasonable chill never dipping into freeze, has kept things lively. Contented citizens and gawking tourists visiting movie houses, admiring store windows, and that inevitable seasonal past time- shopping.
The streets alive with bodies, like blood vessels coursing through concrete gridded veins. Such opened faced wonder and naked joy on display. What startling humanity. What hope. I don't have the heart to urge caution on these exultants. O' me, O' life. To glimpse what we could be.
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