Getting around in some major cities nowadays has become perilous, to say the least, or more like, not getting around at all, not getting anywhere one might say, and. One is left to wonder.

We were there chatting away, my friends and I that day. From coffee to the swimming pool, and drownings in a bar stool, to seat belts on school buses, and another wrong thing as such is. And yeah, the right ones too.

Mere moments later, my friend and I were to look at you, and see out there on the crowded streets, the fury. “The wind gods are furious today,” he said to me. They’re tossing construction cones around, tumbling and rolling across the streets of the town.

“About time,” I’d started to say, that something or someone tosses them away. No?

“why?” he asked of me while staring in my eye, show. “Why? I’ll tell you.” Why must you be doing all of the work at the same time though? Well, "Not you, but them," I said to him, and them. Yeah! Our bright leaders and their friends.

Yeah man, I understand. Those other friends of theirs had goofed it. Right? Those who were there before them, and you –Fitz. They fell down on the job earlier on. Was there postulating as someone special, or as something which they never were, with the gal, even.

Collecting money under false pretense and presiding over crumbling infrastructure? Makes sense. Until people started falling through the cracks, and cracked structure started tumbling down on some people’s… No, lie down backs.

The chicken had finally come roosting, things weren’t going to get better from there on in. Patchwork won’t cut it from here my dear, not this morning, here. Time for a total makeover, or face fines.

They choose to walk the line. So, although that’s a relatively fine building there on the corner lines. Got some history to it too, to garner the times’ headlines. The historical society had, just a year ago, petitioned to have it preserved and restored to its former glory, oh!

It never made the cut to go tell that story. No? The wrecking crew moves into view and into position today. Competing with the other construction crew there on the corner remaking the walkway, and the city’s sewerage system under the clay.

Traffic circulation slowed to a screeching halted stop but go. Yes, go we must. On through the mud and the slush, negotiating flag men’s puffs, fists of rage, and cigarette smoke, from tailpipes’ cage, but the pedestrian stream must be factored in, in between.

Look, look up ahead, look at the scene. Several traffic lights down the watershed where the Boulevard used to be said, like, said to be, it’s now a total construction zone. Replicated on every block, throughout this town.

Why but why? I had was to ask this guy, “couldn’t you say no to the developer czar, on answering the re-gentrification skyscraper tar? Coming from him who has been closing out the sunshine from where you are?

Couldn’t she wait it out just a minute more? Like. Until your construction projects close out the door? No? Meanwhile, everyday Joe kind of people like you and yes, me too, we’re the ones who bear the brunt, yeah, the same ones, we, who pay the bills and buy her lunch.

She pays us back by jeopardizing our jobs and multiplied the bleeding forces with cruel heartless cops. Slow us down on the motoring streets, stop, and go. Real slow.

Steal our “me-time,” and deprives us of our rested sleep –mankind. Making it perilous to use our roads, preying on us pickpockets is the “now codes".

Speaking of sleep. “The city is going to give us back our street,” they say. And I say, yay. They’re going to postpone 40% of the road work, of course. That which was planned for this year and on, for us. Planned by the city and its clerk, because, because of what? No, not that.

It’s not because the construction workers need to go lockdown, too, and go indoors to social-distance with you, no. “The idea is,” they say. We want to make the city more peaceful, while people work from home in their neighborhoods. Isn’t that good? Yes, yes, Mahmoud.

As you already know, that’s the new norm. For us to go into lockdown. So they’re going to give back the street to the citizens, from now on. “We’re going to better manage work sites,” again, they say. Sounds right, nay, or yay? But why, why now? I was to ask my friend, that cow.

Now that the citizens don’t need to use them as much as before, those streets? Because they, the “leaders” have forced and compelled them and us to stay in, behind a closed door, neat.

Got to stay off the streets, and social distance, away from meat. Like, him, and her, and me? So, as it now is, there’s not enough of them and us for leaders like you to push around and slap, with fines, and the city bus. And block our paths, through the park, up North.

By preventing us from getting where we wanted to go or get to, fast. We were trying to get there on time, you know, but not anymore, just fine. So now is a good time to cut back on the planned construction work. Which “we,” meaning, you. You don’t yet know the score.

Like, when the projects will restart, after “we” close that door. Well, I could tell you, you know. If only you’d asked, yes, ask me, cause. That’s easy. How about, like, when things get back to normal? The type of normal that we’re all here working on even now, for you, and me, all the citizens to be.

“And when is that, exactly,” you ask? How about, like. Like, when people get back to going out on the roads again, daily. Trying to get somewhere, or, nearly. To go get things done there, and dearly. More things than they were able to do during the times not so new, like. Like when they, them and you, were forced to stay indoors, and home with you. All because of the lockdown and corkscrew.

The streets were rid of traffic then, and definitely, no construction work was anywhere to be seen, going on, because those workers were locked behind the doors too, holding on. Along with me, and you. It wasn’t because our bright leaders had wanted to give him and her. Like, give the streets back to us, yes, the citizens who were in Lockdown, fuss.

That would have been a good time for that. No? But, it would have appeared as if they had other ideas cooking in the pot. The best time to slow people down on the streets is that. Like, when people are out there driving fast, and lots of them, to tax.

So now that they’re in lockdown, we, you, them, and he. We’re giving them back the streets of the town, so that they can enjoy walking around, in our neighborhoods properly, again. But as soon as the crisis is behind us and things are booming again, and everybody is out and about, busily playing catchup with potato chips looming stout.

That will be a good time to recommence the road works, grind, Well, of course. Right you are. Go ahead fren-a-mine, laugh as much as you like. Laugh if you feel like laughing. If only to stop yourself from crying, no, I ain’t lying. “Not to worry about losing money though.” They explained it away and told us so.

Because, we won’t have any penalties to pay since there were no commitments made to do those road works, yay. I’m left to just suppose and say, No! Just your words which were given to the “us-ward way”?

Like, to you, and me, the citizens, to say, “we’re doing road work and therefore the road will be closed, and you will be forced to find a way to get where you need to go, however you can. Whenever you can. In whatever condition or state-of-mind you can”. And why? Because I said so. That is that. My!

And you wonder why it’s getting harder for me to argue against nephew’s view on these things. Like, when he’s there arguing that, they’re fixing us to waste us painlessly, and as happy-go-luckily as they possibly can. Yay, yeah man, that one.

Care for a podcast with that? Well, why not? Why not try, Inky I-talk, storytellers podcast. Just what the doctor ordered, on myKo-fi breaks subscription. Until next time, I remain your very best friend, E.K the-writingelk , and I’m out.

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