I know, it couldn’t be much further from the last skin, could it? But I’m feeling rather…. industrial. Industrious, no. But I’m lovin’ hard on Oaktown. This is part of the freeway called the Maze*, and I drive under it every day. Something about that concrete makes me happy. More gray, for the skies that are coming. I am mad for fall and winter.
* This is another part of it:
At one point, there are eight different overpasses flying over and under each other. Modern-day buttresses, people. I love that I know where all the exits lead and how to find my way through and around the city streets, and I love flying on the top level, the 980 split to the 880, past the Greyhound station, looking left to the Oakland skyline and right to San Francisco lights. Home is good.
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