Mission Street was stinking like a slaughterhouse; flyblown meat spiced the air. The heat was riding up the thermometer faster than anyone could remember. The church bells of Mission Dolores were tolling long, monotonous peals that reverberated throughout the neighborhood. Salvadorean women dressed in faded black dresses were walking toward the church, past the caravans of German and Japanese tourist buses heading in the same direction. Police helicopters were circling over a Muni bus stuffed to bursting with passengers on Mission Street. Dope dealers and evangelicos were peddling their wares at the corner of Sixteenth Street and Mission. With its brick pavement, news vendor booths, the dopemen selling drugs, and with the evangelicos droning out songs about redemption through their tinny two watt portable amplifiers, screeching the lyrics into feedbacking microphones—the devil was having a lively day at the intersection. What was the point of everything? Bellamy had to stop and ask himself that question.
What do You think about One Foot Off The Gutter (2010)?
