Sunday night, after dark, I’m walking down 4 o’clock towards the Esplanade. Deep in unpleasant thoughts, lost in my head already, as I sometimes get at Burning Man.
From the opposite direction, a young woman rides her bike towards me. I can barely see her in the glare of her headlights.
As we pass each other she calls out “You know you’re going the wrong direction!”
I try to see her, but darkness and light are all I get. “Which direction should I be going?” I call back.
“All of them!” she shouts, without a moment’s hesitation, and then is gone.