The neon purple gets stuck at the edges of long windows in little pearls, just the right size to be a choking hazard. These little balled up dots of energy are always in a line, bringing structure with symmetry and form to the window and its contents. Leading towards the center of town, more neon signs of red and blue cast a glow on the sidewalk that pools together into a washed out purple tone. The formless blob of color disseminates out from the sidewalk and vignettes into darkness. Following the stark grey sidewalk, my eyes lead up the dull metal scaffolding to the top of the structure. The metal reflects even brighter, rippling pools of light above and below me. Further down the street now, the rim lighting of the store windows are exposing. First, they expose the dirty cast over the window. All the small and intricate details of how the dust settles in fracturing patterns. The neon purple illuminates and cuts through the dusty shapes. Second, every window with neon purple is trying to sell me something I don’t want. Except for maybe food, I definitely want that. Further on the outside of town again, and I find neon purple again. The hue dances lightly from the frilly plastic of tutus on two twin dancers. The two small girls pile into the family minivan. The neon is gone once again when the minivan door shuts with a crescendo.
