Yesterday I walked down Avenue M, which is near where I live in Brooklyn. I stood near the entrance to the Avenue M train station at about 3:00 pm, when all the high school kids from Midwood and Murrow are either leaving Murrow (which is nearby), walking to the the train station or waiting at the bus stop in front of the station. I listened to the conversations of girls complaining about other girls; complaining about guys; smacking their boyfriends for clinging to their waists; laughing about how boring some math teacher's wardrobe is.
I heard the thunderous sounds of the trains coming into the elevated station above my head, and the pleasant automated female voice telling the train's passengers, "This is a Manhattan-bound Q local train. The next stop is Avenue J." I hear some girls shriek up in the station, even though I can't see the platform; they were probably running for the train and missed it by seconds. A group of pigeons poked at some crumbs and other assorted garbage on the ground, communicating with each other and making almost inaudible pecking noises as they did so. A young mother and her toddler son passed by, pushing a stroller with a wailing baby. The stroller tread the ground carefully but the mother's high heels click-clacked on the pavement, with each slap against the concrete growing fainter as she walked away.
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