You aren’t sure of what you are seeing. There is fog. There is dying light. But, you see the cop approach the heavy old woman in the torn jacket and realize you are already superimposing any one of a dozen stories in your mind – stories from the recent press, stories from your history, stories you heard a drunk tell.
Pretend that the street corner where the cop met the heavy old woman is a few blocks from this picture. Move the clouds in so the sky is covered. Imagine that what’s left of the flowers are covered with a veil of early snow.
Tell us what happens next.
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