Twitter twitter twitter.
It knows where she is. It tells me where she is.
I track her. She has a schedule. Sometimes I’m there to watch her.
Up at 6am. She tweets a dream.
At the gym by 6:30. It has big windows. And good parking across the street.
She tweets her burned calories.
Shower. At 7. She doesn’t tweet from the shower.
She tweets the clothes she wears sometimes. Shirts, skirts, pants.
That’s usually at about 7:20.
She usually eats light. Toast, unbuttered. Sometimes a smoothie. Or oatmeal with sliced mango.
She tweets boastfully about her diet.
It’s about 7:50 when she gets on the bus. She tweets about the weather as the bus pulls away from the stop.
I put pins on a Google Map as the bus carves out her twitter-passage through the city.
She’s off the bus at 8:23.
The wind catches her hair, ruffles her scarf.
I watch her. Continue reading