Lost voice, lost boy still wanted to hang out though no words could be said.  He sends a message, "Let's go to Yerba Buena park."  It's 11pm.  A little late, but, why not?  We get there and run around like little children in the vast and empty playground, dashing from structure to structure, observing and fiddling with levers and knobs to run water and sand through the irrigation systems.  I haven't slid down a slide in...I can't even remember when.  It's been too long.  The rush of slipping through a tunnel and landing hard on rubber foam floor is nostalgic.  We wander through a maze and keep from stepping on snails, the paths lit by our cellphone screens.  Find a small labyrinth.  Figure the way out.  It's not the first time.  I laugh.  All that's missing is the moon and the ocean, but the streetlamps and puddles left by yesterday's rain are reminiscent of the past.  Explored the vicinity.  Neon lights illuminate the area--purple, orange, and teal.  Attempted Parkour (not really), climbing and jumping off rails.  We walk in silence.  The night is crisp, the air is clear.  The sky is lacking, but the concrete shimmers like stars.  Found ourselves a wishing tree.  Read the wishes dangling off each branch, the ones we could reach.  Wishes for love, happiness, and health, scrawled in childish handwriting--small hands, big hearts, and even bigger dreams.  I wished.  He wished.  But we wished for nothing, really.  Continued, meandering into the streets of Down Town.  The quiet is broken by mad men singing, conversing with themselves.  It's midnight.

It's good to be back in the city.

:)