Traffic is brisk in front of a church where volunteers
hand out free cases of water. Eight or ten
people are standing on the sidewalk, spilling into the street as I ease past in
the Red Cross Emergency Response Vehicle (ERV). Coming even with the gleaming blue and white stack,
an old man yells, asks do we need some water.
He arches his eyebrows theatrically, peers over the top of wrap around
shades. He waits a beat or two then
explodes into laughter, yawning and toothless. I shake my head, wave and laugh all the way to
the corner. In the side mirror the man
conducts business, our moment drained of color, forgotten.
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