exposed: natoma.

[duccio]

I left quickly; gave that sad-eyed woman against the brick wall of the museum the rest of my change. She looked kind and I... I'd given the other change earlier to that guy with the glittering eyes. He was a hustler, and I bet potentially violent. We had talked about how there were lots of things that people wouldn't notice. I do though. So did he. I was able to communicate with both of them easily enough, but eyes open.

I turned down Natoma quick, and wove through cars gluttering out of garages into the idling standstill. Henry's Hunan was right up in the next block, but that wasn't for me this time. I was kind of hurting and feeling like a sidewalk. I looked down, unseeing. It really wasn't anybody's fault, the thing was that way and that was it. Almost at the corner, I glanced back, then stepped into the street behind the first car, white. I crossed Natoma, and moved out onto New Montgomery towards Market. "Natoma and New Montgomery. You know the city," a cross-eyed man disdainfully shouted past me at somebody! (Turning a corner is good.) On Market the crowds around the BART were moving in pairs like at a square dance. There was apparent purpose. Somebody was sitting, begging at the BART entrance down. Then, ticket again, down and out of the city.