from among the group of inappropriately dressed middle aged men and women, she stood out in her somber hued slacks and floral printed chiffoney blouse. she was dancing too alright, together with this rowdy pack of men and women who looked like they just got out from an adult day care center run by nuns and wanted to just drink and let it go in this curbside party not uncommon in my neighborhood during the dog days of summer. but she looked prim and looked like she was just slumming with the decidedly older ghetto crowd there. the only thing that sort of gave away her true age was when someone talked to her, she cocked her head closer to the speaker instinctively, as if she had found ways around this hearing condition since childhood, maybe perhaps from a near drowning in a pool as a kid. i walked over to the other side of the curb as the fire hydrant near the street party suddenly returned to life, spewing white water that mostly got wasted down the gutter although occasional sprays moistened the few clumps of grass tenaciously flourishing in the cracks of the sidewalk.