Signage on a door.
A milk crate full of canned soups, all expired.
A bundle of newspapers on a dilapidated bodega's awning.
I missed out on the free baby, but there were yet other artifacts to find in Crown Heights this afternoon. A bundle of soggy yellow newspapers on an awning, a crate of expired soups sat on the sidewalk under it. More than one bundle was on the awning. How did the newspapers get up there? A superhuman toss. A bodybuilding paperboy. Were these soups fair game? I haven't had Campell's in years.
I saw signage I expect was intended to keep the door shut. But "PLEASE PUSH CLOSE BEHIND YOU" also reads like a direction towards intimacy; it says "step backwards until you feel hot breath on your neck." I tried. Unfortunately, nobody was there. The block was empty except for me on it.