Rumors

The city is festering today, which is what happens after it rains. Everything is sticking - sediment on the sidewalks, in the air, on the skin, in the teeth. By the time I have crossed avenues I am in tiny ruins.

Something has happened in my office and it is passing between lips like a disease (words like to go viral when they are killing a person's reputation). Without windows, this place incubates gossip much better than originality. 

I am grateful this day is half dead already.