A kilometer after Copeland

I walk in the night
The landscape black and gray
The air cold
Sounds tempered

A couple parked their car
And opened the windows
On the side of the road
As they scooped their ice creams

I follow the shadows
Of a man about 200 meters
Ahead of me Ching 26 behind
The jersey they whirred past me

He was singing on the top of his lungs
Until i passed by him
He stopped and glued his eyes
On his phone