Pandora's Box

C-dog and I were heading out of the apartment building and there it was. The damp, gray, smoothed out surface of fresh sidewalk. A perfect blank slate. I'd never defaced public property in my entire life, but suddenly I was overcome with an overwhelming desire to leave my mark. I felt pressed for time, uncertain what deadline the concrete was on before setting. Two more hours until sunset and I thought, "I better act fast. It may be too late if I wait for a cloak of darkness to commit my crime." A peace symbol was etched out next to the words "Lower Haight Rocks" in the square next to "mine." What do I want to say for all who walk by to read? The pressure effectively demagnitized all creativity from my brain. Hastily, I squatted down and using the edge of C-dog's plastic treat container, I carved the letters shallowly into the wet cement. "I love C" We live in the city after all. So instead of romantically carving initials into trees, C and I now have our love immortalized in an urban art medium.