I am sitting on the Free Bench. There is a tenderness to the warmth of the day today. Or maybe that's just me, knowing fall has begun, and so there is a grace to this weather. Noisiness ebbs and flows - an airplane overhead that eventually goes out of earshot, a diminutive 3-year-old girl bossing her even more diminutive 2-year-old brother up and down the sidewalk, the whir of a passing cyclist.
Inside, three 6th grade girls - K--- among them - are glued to iTunes, sampling songs for each other (I've heard the opening bars of Lady Gaga's "Pokerface" about five times so far). Tonight is their first middle school dance. They are so excited. I expect they'll be exhausted before the dance even starts. They all know the words to Tina Turner's "What's Love Got to Do with It?" and were singing along with it when my neighbor K---- found me here at the Free Bench. K---- sang along, too.
A young black-haired young woman with a Frida Kahlo bag just walked by. "Are those your shoes?" she asked me about the gold pumps (remember those from last week? - they're still here) because I was sitting here barefoot. I told her no, and she tried them on. Too tight. But the gauzy navy blue sun dress looked good to her, as did a pair of socks.
K---- asked, "Do you visit this Free Bench often?"
"Yes, I used to live around here." I guess when she visits the 'hood, the Free Bench is on her circuit.
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