Monday, August 17, 2020 - Hoyt Street / Carroll - Mira Fisher

Hoyt Street / Carroll

It’s 4AM, mid-August. I dream-wake to the sound of rapid conversation. From my open window I see two figures standing with e-bikes on the street below. I don't speak Spanish but can just gather that corasons are involved (or was it calzones? They are delivery guys). Whatever it is, it is dire, this is a red eye rendezvous and there are restless hand gestures that I can just detect in the street light. One man raises his hands in front of him. "The calzone is...this big." Or perhaps, "I love you about...this much." They are urgently comparing units of space. 

HEY!!! I yell. It's sharp like a bark, and shoots right at their helmets before bouncing down Hoyt street. They stop as if struck, and then some moments pass of the clearest silence before they mount their bikes and whizz in opposite directions. My voice is a force, supposedly from the sky even to me, and their obedience is pious. I vaguely missed them already as I giggled myself back to sleep.

- Mira Fisher