It's about cardinal past warbler on Cafe Luna's bird clock, which means I have canary and robin until I need to set down my coffee and head to school. Theft school; or as the courts call it, the Rush Theft Deterrent Program.
I doubt my education will have much practical value. Instead it will keep me from winding up like the poor transient trying to catch some sleep on the spare chairs adjacent to where I sit at the counter. I watch as three portly men ask the manager, "You want him out of here?"
I don't hear the response, but soon the diner is filled with the brusque jostling of said transient: a seemingly unnecessary conflagration. I'm reminded of yapping dogs behind a chain-link fence. One of them keeps saying, "Chicago police."
I stink-eye them as they leave. They're probably my teachers.
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