A Quiet City


Lone man in an alley. Door opens, two men exit. A flash of light and laughter follows. Zoom in on their faces, smiles. The two from the building wear white, stained with red—pasta sauce. They light cigarettes, nod to the lone walker before he opens the door. He pauses, says something, they all laugh.

Car passes below, faster than it should on this street. Cuts through a light turning red. Young couple inside. Girl laughs, a little nervous. Guy says, “Just wait till we get on the freeway, this thing’ll hit sixty in less than three.” She asks Three what? He says You’ll see. Sends a message to GPD: Showboating gunmetal Ferrari headed west on the 2.

A figure bumps into an alcove, coughs. Crumples into a heap. Heavy bag thuds next to him. A trio of professionals head down the sidewalk. Thousand dollar suits. Talking about Tina in sales, comments about everything but her personality. The old homeless man asks if they can spare anything, one of the three says he’s all out of #*$!’s , the others laugh.

Dull night. Tells himself that’s a good thing, that this is what he wants. A quiet city, a sleepy city, a city where the worst thing to happen is a homeless man going hungry. Stares down at the old-timer. Considers changing that. Turns away.