I drove down the streets next to sunset, stopping at the red light. Two streets up, you were crossing the road, your long, straight hair and bangs concealing your face for a moment, before I saw it was you. You answered your phone, and spoke, without ever noticing I was driving past, almost as if being glad to have a distraction. Or did you notice? Did you want to notice? You walked into the door to the laundry room, and out of sight. Others stood talking in the double rooms, separated by the long hallway, in the whorly hum of washing machines and dryers. I drove ahead, turning east, and up the hill past the empty stadium. Sunset was near, with the sky a cold blue and burnt orange. In the empty, spacious parking lot was a police siren, and a parked police car; just in silence with their actions, waiting. Myself and other cars stopped at the stop light, with nothing crossing, and waiting until it turned green to drive ahead, over the next hill.