Bent over a bottle cap I am happy with the simplest of found treasure. I am unaware that a woman has halted her stride to wait for me to take my photo. I apologize and am thankful she has kindly waited. I pick up the pace to give her room only to drop my hand sanitizer and apologize again. I remind myself not to get too lost in the looking. Working alone in an art studio for years has prepared me for this social isolation. Only now, I imagine all other humans are zombies, because humor is necessary solace.
I watch crows eat garbage and attempt to get close. I find the zoom on the camera is also faulty and the birds get wise to my spying. The lookout tells the others of my presence, and I have sadly interrupted their feast. As I return to the sidewalk, from the alley I have entered, I see a policeman hidden beside a building, lurking. I venture on, masked and anonymous.