There’s a bit of blue up above, just past the awning, but also reflected in the bedrizzled tarmac all around, fizzling past the orange-brown trailblazers of autumn, crunched up and sleeping in little puzzling puddles, who went too fast and too hard this summer and said, you know what, that was a great time, I’m done, let’s give September a whirl.

It’s August 5th and you have one headphone on, the other tucked behind your left ear. There’s a vague natter dribbling in from happy hour locals. And in your right ear something shimmering and infinite.