ghost towns

I picked up David, my friend from Rwanda, at the airport and he wanted to eat so we toured Albuquerque in search of food. He kept repeating with his thick accident, "This is a strange town. This is a strange town."

It is a city, actually, and there are lights that look like a city, but everything is dead and empty. Even the large, expensive hotels stand against the mountains, but people don't enter or exit them. The lady at our front desk said, "You are the only guest," last night when I checked in. There are over a hundred and forty empty rooms.

I feel like I'm in a ghost town like you'd see in the ol' Warner Bros. cartoons with Yosemati Sam, expect the dust hasn't settled and there's still a trace that a lively, vibrant city once existed here. It is eerie, actually.

This is a strange town. This is a strange town.