This story is based on a vacation long-past, before the virus made travel frightening. It is a map of the unappreciated parts of gritty San Francisco, for those who are willing to look.
In the spring of 2018, I was an impending disaster. When I picture the colour of that season in my mind, I can see sunsets of flamingo, fire, and gold seeping through the blinds of my third story apartment as I listened to the turbulent theme song of the trash cartoon show I watched to keep the ghosts at bay. That spring, I desperately wanted a saviour, but I would not turn out to be the one who needed saving.