Sitting in the Rocket Bakery, trying to write a story about vampires, I saw a man and a little girl walking on the pavement outside. She had a little blue dress with a purple belt and blonde curly hair. He was in green pants and a “Herzog” t-shirt. It was raining steadily, more static than downpour. He picked her up and pointed south, “Look, a train.” He sat her against his chest and crossed his arms over her legs. An aluminum-sided train ran on the tracks above Cedar Street.
The girl clapped her hands against her mouth. A woman brought the man a cup of coffee, and he put the little one down to take it. They watched for a while out in the rain.