In the largely empty bookstore, a teenaged boy walks in a slow, wide circle while reading out loud to himself through a mask.
A riveting sax solo brings joy to this corner of the park.
Today, there's frost in their relationship. It keeps their sentences clipped and cold.
Two seals circle the small tank without pause or release, as the demented bells jangle on the hour.
First new pair of glasses in a while, and I like how they look.
A crackling cloud of seagulls electrified by the promise of food.
Crusty buildings, haggard strip malls. The brownness of late winter and early spring, everywhere brown, waiting to be relieved by flowers, leaves, anything green.