10:15. Traffic light paused, a long duration of self-evaluation. The strumming of an old guitar on the radio. Three men pushing shopping carts down the empty sidewalk, sweat glistening off their brow. One of them waves to someone in the distance. A smile spreading across his face like spilled ink on the carpet. Kept the windows rolled down because the fresh air is easier to breathe these days. It ain’t too cool, but it’s not where near the inferno temperatures here. Unless you’re one of those guys pushing carts down the street. (Out of Nowhere) 12:02. Her fragrance intoxicates. She’s an order of homebrew, blonde roast. A voice on the radio reads the time. It makes no difference, the way her words sway throughout…