Out of why and out of wine the promenade besides us has faster traffic. The wind hums under the treeline and there are vendors snaking, dancing their way through the stopped lines of traffic.

I’m out of bandwidth and want to scream or rage clean. Then across the street a boy gets off the bus bench as his girl walks around the corner. They spin and dance with finesse for only a few seconds before they walk arm in arm, past the startled pedestrian traffic. Besides me you squeeze my arm and the world seems to go a lot faster.