Streetcorner Interlude

Walking to work early this afternoon, east on 16th. At Harrison the light is green. A white pickup makes a left turn as a fixed-gear rider comes down the hill toward the intersection. No problem–the fixie guy slows himself down and eases past the truck. I’m halfway through the crossing now, and I hear a voice, a male voice, say, “What a beautiful day!” It is. It’s cloudless and blue, sunwashed. The man who says this looks at me from behind the wheel of a blue Corolla.”Beautiful!” He repeats. “I can’t believe it.”

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