It happened just as you would imagine. Light like matter and the street like any other but with her crossing. Every aspect marvelous and all at once over.  He had not thought of her in months and assumed nonrecognition. She had not thought of him nor seen him. It happened as you would imagine but with precision. She wore a scarf and with the sun out. It would have tempered with the afternoon but for August. He had nothing to say to her. There were no coincidences.

He could imagine things otherwise. There were always alternatives. These were implausible as they were implacable. He could not place it. If he left the city. What is the matter. Helicoids of particles traverse where the light is. Wait at the light for the out the

Hours passed. Crepuscular August brings relief. It turns a tender shade. Then night and the debaucheries. Not that these are hard hours to waste under the polluted horizon hearing traffic and thinking of later. Not particularly.

What have you been up to? - Nothing really. I want to get out of the city. - Me too. - What you doing tonight? - No plans.

There were the sounds of the waves on the pier and there were the sounds from the Henry Hudson Parkway and there were the sounds of the crowds crossing and these sounds said nothing, some more so.