While tapping away at my computer, I heard through the construction and traffic din shouting. The shouting came from a girl on the corner. Apparently, she was kicked out of her apartment. By her boyfriend, I believe. The shouting went on for a little while. I tried to keep my head on my project. Morbid curiosity set in and I took a look.

There she stood. A back pack over her shoulders and lugging another bag. Her boyfriend stood facing her while she pleaded for a reprieve. She had no place to go, she said. “You have a home,” she said. The boyfriend didn’t say anything louder than conversational volumes. I never heard his responses. I think he might have been out of them. Finally, he walked away.

She continued to plead with him, but eventually she gave up. Her sobbing shook her backpack. She turned in small circles trying to figure out which way to go. I could see glints of sunlight from her earrings. The girl picked up her bag and began walking. It’s quiet on the street again. The only rumble now is from the traffic and construction.