Dark savage streets in the city of night as the sound of jazz echoes through my brain with the rising steam of the underground speed train.
I walked through the star sidewalks in the cool California evening and I stood across the Chinese Theatre, its courtyard absent of street peddlers. There were no tourists. Like me it stood alone.
We faced one another. I’s a young man, admiring an ancient relic of American art and spectacle, glory. Gable and Bogart.
I smiled wide and continued on my way.