i walk by the shells, and my feet turn black. the more i walk alongside them, the more dirt i gather. the soles of my feet are white, but the exposed surfaces are covered in soot. the streets leave a mark on my feet, and my skin shows the sign of time the way my muscles cannot. i am older to this city. i walk by the shells, and i hear the sound of my skin breaking as the second half of the course unfolds at my feet.