Because I didn’t have my camera with me at the time.

A black dog with curly hair and no tail looks back over his shoulder and continues on his way. There are no humans to be seen.

Containers are stacked on the back of the freighter, rusty red and blue and green, so many pieces of Lego.

The wind flies in from the West bringing huge black clouds. It starts to rain. The drops are big and far apart.

Two tall teenaged boys stand on the play field dressed exactly the same in shiny black basketball shorts with white trim and sleeveless black t-shirts. Both have shaved heads. They are very close together. The boy on the right carefully wraps yellow tape around the hands of the boy on the left.

A white plastic toy soldier lies in green moss on the edge of the gray concrete path between two tall bay laurel hedges. Crows scream and swerve from above.

The police have the shoplifter in handcuffs, two cops, one on each side. The shoplifter looks angry, but the police are all casual as they point to the car. “Over there,” one of them tells the shoplifter, as though he’d said, “I’ll drive, we’ll take my car.”

He’s tall and skinny in a leather jacket, skinny black jeans, his hair long and straight and not quite the color of his beard. He is leaning solicitously towards the granny next to him on the bench at the bus stop and he is smiling warmly. They are deep in conversation, like old friends.

She’s at the back of the restaurant, only her eyes uncovered. She is fully veiled, head to toe in black save for a white lace shawl. As she leaves the restaurant, she is several steps behind the man; he wears jeans and a striped polo shirt. She looks down at the ground in front of her. She holds the hand of a little girl in a pink dress.

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