the sun was still unforgiving when i and a co-worker, a fellow expat, left work early this evening. “you have aged considerably,” she just blurted out. it sounded much coarser in our language.
the black writer du jour, ta-nehisi coates, was asked in a recent public radio interview whether he was raising his son in despair, the interviewer referring to his bleak assessment of what it is to be black today. he replied his trade was not in despair nor in hope but in honesty.
by the entrance of the pocket park near my apartment building, a mexican mother was hawking grilled corn from an improvised coleman cooler. she had with her her daughter, about five or six, who was so diffident she hardly looked at the customers. she constantly tugged at the leash of their little piebald dog. as the corn lady slathered lime mayo on my purchase, i told her her niña is beautiful. “she’s alright,” she replied.