It was a windy summer morning and, while storms would drench the city by early afternoon, for now the day was sunny and pleasantly cool. In front of the library a bearded man sat leaning against the marble wall. His knees were bent so his feet were close to his body and out of the way of those passing by on the sidewalk. His attention was focused on the lit cigarette he passed between the fingers and thumb of his left hand. He dragged, occasionally, from the cigarette, and when he did his gaze moved upward toward the top of an oak in the block-sized park across the street. There were squirrels in the tree, but it wasn't clear if they, or something else, drew his attention.
A group of joggers – lean and fluid – passed through the park. A bicyclist with a scruffy goatee and a messenger bag came racing up the street in front of the library, narrowly missing a green checkered taxi as it turned against the light. On the corner a middle-aged woman in a business suit stood, drinking coffee from a paper cup, waiting for the light to change.
Three teenage boys stood talking near the library's entrance. Their words were garbled by the wind but the general tone was cheerful and carefree or, at least, mostly so. They were aware of the bearded man. One of them, a dark-haired boy with large pink zit on his chin kept turning toward the man and then back to his friends. He lowered his voice so that even the tone was lost and playfully punched the boy to his right in a manner suggesting it was time to make a move. He repeated this gesture a few times, but other than laughter and a few return punches no move was made. If the man noticed this he made no sign of it.
A girl, somewhat older than the boys, walked out of the library. She had curly black hair tied in a simple pony tail. Except for a few freckles on her nose and cheeks, her skin was pale and smooth. She wore a light, loose-fitting yellow dress that ended two or three inches above her knee. The wind was blowing steadily, and she had to grab its hem to keep the dress from blowing up around her as she hurried away. The boys noticed her immediately and ceased their conversation until she reached the corner and turned out of sight.
Near the foot of the oak tree a squirrel paused, its head turning rapidly from side to side, and when the time seemed right, it dashed into a nearby bush, roused a couple of pigeons and darted up the tree carrying a piece of bread. One of the fleeing pigeons narrowly avoided clipping the head of a pudgy man walking along the concrete path by the oak. The man shouted and dropped the book he'd been carrying. He quickly bent to pick it up, and – red-faced, his head turning rapidly from side to side – he hurried away.
A round, child's face appeared at a second-floor window of the library. From the street the child's gender wasn't clear until her long hair swooped into view as she turned away. She returned moments later with another little girl – a friend. They pointed and clutched each other, giggling, then ran out of sight.
The boy with the large zit left his friends and walked over to the bearded man. He stopped a couple of feet from the man and stood there staring down at him. Ten seconds passed. The man paid no attention. The boy turned to his friends and shrugged. His friends laughed, then nodded encouragingly for the boy to continue. The bearded man pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. As he turned the pack, beginning the motion of fetching a cigarette, he boy grabbed the pack and ran. He darted passed his friends and up the street. For a moment his friends remained still and stared at the bearded man with shocked expressions, then they turned and ran. The bearded man watched them go, then closing his eyes, he rested his head against the marble of the library wall and whispered softly to himself, “Fuck”.