Tel Aviv Night
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The white road stretches out into the night. It’s just me. Or maybe it’s us. You don’t know me yet, not really. It doesn't matter. What matters is the pulse of the city—Tel Aviv. It greets us with its non-standard nocturnal thinking, flashing lights of love, the pathos of Las Vegas mixed with the dirt of some backwater town.
My head is empty. There’s a pack of Camel cigarettes on the display case. The cashier looks at me, or maybe I look at her.
"What time did you say your shift ends?"
Did I say that? No. But the rhythm of the night pushes me forward. Plus speed, minus love. We are animals tonight.
"You look good," I say, turning to the girl beside me.
"I'm Sasha," I lie. Today, I am Sasha.