MacArthur BART is melting in the dark

Watch­ing the lit­tle pud­dles on the roof out­side Des­tiño’s win­dow rip­ple from the rain­drops com­ing down. Makes me want to find my grand­moth­er’s cake recipe, spend hours bak­ing a cake with sweet green icing, throw the recipe away and take the cake out­side and leave it near MacArthur BART.

But I don’t think that I could take it.