When I bring the dog down for her morning walk, there's a woman sheltering in the doorway of our apartment building talking on the phone. She steps out of the way when I come up behind her to go outside, and she quickly retreats to the slightly less meager comfort of the doorway of the shop next door.
The rain patterns the hood of my jacket, reminding me of the sound of rain from my childhood, but when I try to indicate to the woman, mostly via hand gestures and significant looks, that she should feel free to get back on our stoop, if that's what she wants, she just looks at me like I might be crazy, just for trying to talk to her at all.
One year ago: A Different Kind of Banking
Two years ago: Equation of Time
Three years ago: Flex
Four years ago: Good Advice