The breeze of the evening rustled the branches. The shadows danced across the concrete sidewalk and the grass. Love walked with a cigarette in his hand. A cigar he had smoked earlier. But for a walk... he preferred a cigarette. Something about a 

cigar

warranted that he be seated. A cigarette you could take anywhere.

This was his first time in 

Bloomington, IN

. He had never heard of it before. Apparently this was an anomaly. Almost every 

American

had heard of this place according to the men playing cards back at the inn.

"Don't you watch any basketball, son?" the man with the potbelly asked.

Marc Love had indeed seen Indiana play in the NCAA. Long time ago. But he had never known that they were from a place called Bloomington. For dinner he tried to go to the place the lady was going to recommend. But she had never gotten around to telling him. Distractions came in at just the wrong moments. And finally he ended up playing cards. Drinking whiskey. Smoking cigars instead.

Now he was finally out. Walking. Instead of driving. He'd spent much of the past few years on the road. Burning so much 

gasoline

. Why had he done that? Now that he was walking around he felt infinitely better than when he was driving around. It was as if a heavy burden was being lifted off his shoulders. Thoughts came and went freely. He wasn't fixating. Things flowed.

All it took was a town that felt like it was made for walking. He'd been to those in Europe. Every town there felt like that. But in the states... everything felt like a highway rest stop.

After walking for twenty minutes he decided to stop into a local grocery store. 

Bloomingfoods

. Funny. He had imagined he'd stop into a diner here. That's where he always stopped into. But in this town he decided he'd rather get something simple from the hot bar at the local grocery co-op. Strange.