Crossing the street, an Asian lady with short hair, wearing white cotton gloves. Her coat nips at the waist in a ’50s silhouette, and her matching black hat with a small feather dates from the same era.
She nods at a school crossing guard in an outsize reflective yellow vest. The guard is black with a deluge of blonde braids, and a hygienic mask covers her nose and mouth. She beckons an old man as he approaches to cross.
The man is white with a poorly tended gray beard. He is skinny, his leather blazer like a tarp thrown over his skeleton. On his head is a promotional sombrero from a national Mexican restaurant chain. In his hands, a second sombrero. He rushes across the street with purpose — sombrero delivery guy, sombrero delivery in progress.
“Look at this,” says Brad. “America.”
One thought on “At the Stoplight”
This really made me tear up, small moment of wonder and seeing, awareness of the beauty of humanity. Well said, Brad.