note #25

a black limo has pulled up and parked across the way on the little side street my apartment faces. the driver has gotten out and walked around to the end of the vehicle. standing on the far side of it, he pulls out his supplies and rolls a cigarette. he wanders along the side towards the front of the limo and messes with a blue recycle bin sitting there. moving back the way he came he lights the cigarette. he begins to smoke it and walk up and down the street near the vehicle, going a little ways beyond to each side. he is wearing a light suit - tanish-brown or grey, one cannot tell in the dim light from the streetlights - and shiny black shoes. his tie is possibly a red tone. he opens the back door of the limo and bends in for a moment to do something, his pants going high enough at the hem to expose white socks. his hair is slicked back with a curl falling over his forehead and he walks with a slight swagger. he smokes his cigarette in that slightly nervous seeming manner the lesser gangsters use in old movies. he continues to pace as he smokes. once finished, he gets back in the limo and i hear him start the engine. at first he pulls away from the curb and starts down the street, then stops and reverses, pulling backwards onto the cross street and taking off into the night.

this is a truth.