What she got out of it was the world can be seen from her stoop. For the duration of half a burrito, swimming in extra green sauce with avocado her favorite green stuff, and the reminiscence of an ice coffee slurped through a straw sitting next to one of her closest friends, she had seen more and a lot in the last few moments. She and her sit together their bodies curve the shape of the stairs both residing on the 4th step, the top. Legs outstretched and covered by additional jackets for the breeze of a san francisco evening has begun. They sit perched in their own picture window to ebb and flow of urban life.
A man and woman walked by with in unison towards valencia to the right. The man carrying a surf board. The woman carrying a overstuffed bag. Next three runners in varying heights and in varying gender and a similar slender build run by. One of the girls recognize them but it is too late, they are gone. They return to the back and forth of bench time now no longer on a bench but a stoop. The catching up of life of work of love of dreams of all of it. Until the next image swirls by again. A smallish asian women with a pack of yap dogs start going crazy upon seeing another breed. She stands still with the barking mob mentality until they pass. Owner of other breed and friend laugh at the ferocious brawl. Small creatures barking like it might be their last. Then the roommate of one of the girls comes out of the house to talk of lost cats and happy hours pending and birthdays to celebrate. And then she is gone.
There is then space to just watch and see the glisten of the sun as it begins to dive to to the depths of the earth. The light is diagonal on top of the building makes the pastel painted projects look new. She and her look to the left and see a man, a man who looks at them and makes eye contact but not in a checking you out kind of fashion, eyes that are waiting to do something. And she turns to her and glance away. There is a pop. And a look to the left and there stand the shortish man around manhood stabs the tire again. The air releases out. He never looks at them again. And runs around the corner. What to do when you see a man pop tires of a family who parked not but a few minutes earlier? Random. Or not. What to do? When someone has a knife and long gone? Pause. A man and woman walks by the woman with a guitar the electric variety hugging her hip.
Until a car double parks light pulsing in and out until one, two, three women walk the red carpet home. Two of the three dressed in vibrance of colors of wigs of high heels and intoxicated in laughter. Two drag queens her neighbors are home. And in as the sun sets and the burrito foil is wrapped and as the two stand up again what she got out of it the world could be seen from her stoop. A few steps outside her home. She could sit there and observe it all. And how quickly she can turn around and open the door and go back inside. Deciding again when to come and sit and observe the picture window of her own making. Her own show of urbanity.
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