contrast

It was a nice neighborhood. He didn’t appreciate it enough. It was also a shitty neighborhood for what it was. Houses cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Which for a third world country was a lot. You had to keep security guards. Light was infrequent. Plumbing was only good if you were the one to supervise every inch. The water was not drinkable. The sun was rising, stretching, and yawning as it sailed across the sky. The sky was a light blue, the twinkling deep blue of the night had faded. Soon it would be white. Drowsy clouds would float through the sky. The car was cool. He shook the cup with his left hand and smiled. It looked like he was doing something else. It was a funny thought. The roads were empty, the houses clean, and big. It was a nice neighborhood. He passed the traffic light, about to go into a cleaner one. A better neighborhood. That was the thing about this place. It kept getting better. Or worse. Really depended on what direction you were going in. The bridge was in front of him. He veered to the right and went around and under it. He wanted to try a different route today. It was six in the morning. Who would care. Who would bother. No one would miss him yet. He’d done yet another shorter run. But short was a matter of perspective. Four miles was long enough to some, probably to most. He was in the ninety ninth percentile of runners at least according to his watch. He aimed for about forty eight miles a week. Some weeks he would meet that goal. Some weeks he wouldn’t. He didn’t beat himself over it. He forgave and moved on. Tomorrow was another day. The shorter run today meant he could enjoy a nice quiet drive. He was past the bridge. The road he was on now was a straight path to where he wanted to go. It wouldn’t turn anymore. The road let straight for a few miles. He turned onto the road and kept swiveling his head from left to road. The road left him shocked. It had been more than a year since he’d been here last and he hadn’t remembered that it had been like this. The left side was lined with mucky shops, and one storied barely standing brick houses with metal shutter on top of them. The sad thing was that this area was literally adjacent to one of the most affluent areas in the city. To his right was a patch of land that ran parallel to the road. Grass grew sparsely and uncontrolled. Not like the trimmed neat lawns of the houses that neighbored this area. Boys played cricket. A man with a dog was standing watching them. The dog would leap at the ball as it flew, as the game was played, only to be stopped in his tracks by the leash he was in. All of them were in dirty clothes. The rich and the poor lived such vastly different lives.