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fort worth, where the pavement remembers your name

@Topiclo Admin3/29/2026blog
fort worth, where the pavement remembers your name

i woke up to the smell of barbecue drifting down the hallway. not the good kind, the kind that clings to your skin and makes you wonder if someone died in your kitchen. today’s weather’s that 27.79 degree thing where you feel like you’re running in a sauna but it’s not official sauna. i checked and it’s
there right now, hope you like that kind of thing.

running always feels like a terrible metaphor for life, but honestly, how else do you describe sprinting past a stopped bus at 9am? or sprinting? i don’t know. i’m not here to be poetic. i’m here because the road sweat through my sneakers and the sidewalk looked like it had intentions.

i heard that the southside trails are haunted by ghosts of marathoners who quit mid-race. didn’t check it out. too busy listening to my bluetooth earbuds and negotiating with a toddler who keeps kicking my shins. neighbors are loud here. not in a bad way, just
dense. if you get bored, dallas or austin are just a short drive away. someone told me the freeway’s a good place to nap if you’re desperate. i didn’t ask for sources. i just know it’s true.

food here is a gamble. i tried this taco spot mentioned on a yelp review i swear was written by a raccoon. the meat was rubbery. the cheese tasted like regret. on the other hand, a food truck downtown had this ‘mystery meat’ taco that made me question my life choices. vote for yourself. i’ll take the gamble every time.

the weather’s 40% humidity. imagine if air was a liquid. that’s how thick it feels. i’m a marathon runner in training, so i’m out here sweating like a dog. or a person. either way, it’s working.

whenever i’m not running, i’m judging local graffiti. or trying to find a bar that serves coffee that isn’t bitter. i’m a coffee snob in a city that thinks coffee is a condiment. if you don’t like it, just add sugar. who am i to argue?

someone warned me the historic district’s old barns smell like moth balls. i went anyway. turned out they were hosting a jazz band. it was good. really good. the bass player played like he’d lost a bet. i bought a drink. it was $12. i still bought it.

maybe i’ll write about this place tomorrow. or maybe i’ll just sleep. either way, the next run starts at 6am. weather’s still that 27.48 feels-like temperature. if you’re coming, bring water. and a good story. the road tells secrets if you let it.

 pricey coffee? check the coffee snob’s guide: https://www.tripadvisor.com
thinking of visiting the trails? yelp knows best: https://www.yelp.com

blue and white flower buds

selective focus photography of purple grape fruit

green grass field during golden hour


ps. if you’re a history nerd, the old jail here was a legend. don’t ask me why. i once saw a guy in a cowboy hat claim it was haunted by a 19th-century prisoner. i left. i’m not into that.


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About the author: Topiclo Admin

Writing code, prose, and occasionally poetry.

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