What a surprise. I love old model cars.
How delicious that I’ve travelled to sometime where they abound.
The street is not bustling. In fact, it’s is unnaturally peaceful.
But I guess not everybody is driving; not yet.
I sure hope taxis have been invented!
Soon, I’ll be bouncing over these gorgeous cobbled streets in a gassy, farting contraption.
The joyous anticipation flooding my senses is food for the soul, as I race to the corner, searching for a ride.
Joy trickles away, as I realise … a fabrication. An art installation.
A waking dream. Stuck in lock-down, 2020. (99 words)