Los Anaeis River
This River consumes me.
It functions as a time capsule for my memories. 
It engulfs my teenage years from high above.
It represents the city that ignites within me. 
My history assembled within the City of Angels.
12022020
The river wasn’t satisfying at first, it had a horrid stench, worse than most days. One that made you wonder how much worse it would be closer to its stagnant exits. Mold is already taking over the concrete ground. Speckles of white residue touching the soles of my feet, wanting to climb up my bare calves.
The Rail Pass staff passing by me, as if to act as my angels, keeping me safe from my fears. I just rode where I could and slid where I couldn’t, on the verge, of getting soaked with slime. A new form of adrenaline. I slithered away from the stench, my nose itching at this point.
I found my balance on my board, finally, an opening without pebbles. The sun gleamed through the Amtrak windows, only to whisk past me. I preceded to float amongst the city lights, which were slowly flickering on as if to feel the peace I hold within myself. With my SD card in need of formatting, my mind took its place. Stored away in a special place, I drove into the night only to see a man of mystery.