Jack Fisher

I don't know too many people in SF with kids. I've only recently begun to hang out with other couples – and I still feel the most comfortable with my single friends.

Everyday, there are hundreds of moments where I purposefully ignore the news in order to be move on. Some problems are too big to wrap my head around.

Our lives, the act of living, nurture our decay. And from the moment we wake, life bombards us inexplicable questions: what should I do – what should I confront today?

I had a good chat with a friend the other night. She told me that I should write more. Write more, otherwise it'll go away and doesn't come back, she says. Write about anything.

She was still young, her blond locks flirted with her shoulders. But her hands betrayed her.

I took the tram to work today instead of biking. And it was autumn. Walking around slowed me down. The city came into focus and I saw stuff I had forgotten – flower stands and commuters in coats, coffee shops and steam from the sewers, idled cars and the blinking restaurant