November 2, 2023:
Ink, shoulder to fingertips, red ribbons on cutiepie pigtails, red-and-white checkered tablecloth made into a flouncy dress. With her girlfriend, Asian and shy, laughing and swiping a cartoon game on a shared iPhone.
Stooped, balding, dishwater long hair, black-rim glasses with fingerprints. Paunch, isolation, depression. Leaves the medical center on his own, bound for home.
Muscled white bro hits me up for money for a shirt. New job, bouncer at a club downtown. I'd go for it if I had cash. But I literally do not — it's been years since I carried money. If I weren't on deadline I'd take him shopping.