People walking with determination. A purpose. Somewhere to be.
I’ve reached my destination. My only purpose to be where I am.
Not only is the boy enjoying riding on his dad’s shoulders, but he gets to wear his dad’s bucket hat, too. It’s too big for him and is continually being pushed back from slipping over his eyes. An insignificant inconvenience for a glorious moment.
A gold watch catches the sun and, on a swinging arm displaying an elaborate sleeve of Asian inspired ink, appears to be more decoration than precision instrument.
The bald head and forehead boast many battle scars. He remembers the origin of every one. Does anybody else?
A pregnant cyclist peddles past. One hand on the handlebars. The other cradling her swollen belly.
The hot dog approaches her mouth from the side. Her partner aims his straight in. Their attention divided between food and footwork has thrown off their stride. They’re followed by a patient pigeon nabbing bits of bun and relish on the first bounce.
A delicate flower highlighted by soft blond hair moves each time the brawny calf pulls a short man’s filthy Nike from the cobblestones.
His tortured body is strapped into a mechanized wheelchair controlled by his twisted left hand. On his T-shirt, Speedy Gonzales yells, “Ariba! Ariba!”
Round dark sunglasses sit under a black leather cap and on top of a black mask with two prominent vents. The face is totally obscured. WW1 gas mask? Visitor from another galaxy?
His arms don’t move when he walks. It’s unclear if the seams of his pants will hold as his massive thighs bulge with every stomp-like step. He could toss a Honda over a hedge.
It’s unclear if she’s trying to answer the question: “How many earrings does one need?” or “How many piercings are possible on a standard issue human ear?”.
Big man walking a tiny dog. The dog dances forward leading his lumbering companion.
The two note bah-bah, bah-bah of a European police siren is
a reminder of past trips, countless movies, and that I’m not where I usually