I saw a little lame boy with red hair and too many newspapers under his small arm, jammed against his sweaty shirt, while he was selling the papers on the street corner. He sold to cars that paused at his intersection, making sales quickly or else not at all. He seemed disinterested, maybe dreamy, but stayed on his feet. He was on the job, but not with much effort, and seemed out of place.
One doesn't think much of things like that happening any more. I was a passenger in the car, so I got a good look. He resembled the actor who played Forrest Gump as a little boy. But he didn't seem so cute. He looked tired. Sun-burned a little. Traffic whizzed on past him while the drivers looked anywhere except at him. It wasn't really a safe intersection for him, but it never seems safe for the flower sales-people who sometimes occupy the same locale, so I guess it's safe enough that the cops don't stop them. Or is it just that the cops don't want to fuck with them?
Curve-billed Thrasher
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I was surprised at how well the birds in Bill and Alice’s yard seemed to
get along. Three or four were often pecking simultaneously at different
sections ...
3 days ago
We have a lot of folks selling papers on the corners here that I would assume would be on the margin for being in the extreme poverty category. I always buy my paper from them because I think anyone trying to work in any capacity deserves a helping hand. Good post!
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