October 25, 2021 - All the cars on Allen Street turn left at the same time

All the cars on Allen Street turn left at the same time. Mid-day, the light switches from red to green and a gust of wind moves through the leaves of a tree that stretches above the bike lane. The city has its own breath, never steady but always there. A box truck honks its horn twice. A man in a white tank-top and black basketball shorts steps out onto his fire escape: yawns, stretches, and reaches into his pocket ––– cigarettes and a lighter. He leans against the rail and glances uptown for a while. Police sirens. A woman in a red blouse with jeans and white heels tries hailing a cab ––– no luck, she ties her hair up behind her, pauses, then goes at it again . . . a yellow taxi pulls up beside her. She gets in. They drive away.