i was there on that part of the curb way before him, waiting to hail a cab. but his hand darted up the air as the apple green swish of an outer borough taxi flashed. on the inside of his elbow is a bandaid. he must have come from having his blood drawn. i let him have the cab.
as i finally got in my taxi, i hit my elbow, that soft part between bones, against the door. didn’t ancient chinese doctors use some sort of sounding tines to diagnose fractures? they held them over an uninjured bone and these sounding stones—or were they porcelain?—rang clear but over a broken one, these become dumb.
the driver asked me again where was i going. i answered him too loudly, i guess. i could still hear myself clearly even as we slowed in that corner of the street where a barker screamed “free phones, free phones,” right in front of the jewelry store with a banner outside that said “30% off.”