The hot, sunny day curdled into in a drenching rainstorm, leaving a thin film of humidity over everything as I walk home from the subway.
As I cross the street, a car waiting to turn edges closer to the crosswalk, and I hear, from inside the car, a woman’s voice shout, “Fucking move!”
I neither quicken nor slow my pace, but continue to the curb, and as soon as I’m out of the crosswalk, the car roars through, with some further choice words I can’t make out and a cackling laugh from the passenger side.
They speed to the next stoplight, only to get stuck behind a garbage truck, and I smile.
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