A laundromat open late, 5 or so people in there washing clothes, and somehow a sign indicating that above it, on a second floor with no visible windows, is the Brotherhood Boxing Club for Men, Ladies, and Youth.
Two little girls playfully stick their heads out a window at me.
Hey mister, we’re trying to raise . . . she struggles with the words. We’re trying to raise money for . . .
The other girl makes odd grunting sounds. They wrestle in the window, giggling.
You really do have to live at a different rhythm here, and get acclimated to different ideas of space. The day really doesn’t ever end, it just gets darker. And sometimes even in July there’s a cool breeze in that dark, and the city’s pretty safe now, so you can go out there and enjoy it and relax. It’s like a living room we all share. Sometimes I’ll just lean against a concrete fence or a trash pen and watch the world go by, and write it down.