Warm night supper. The jets overhead to La Guardia, the hacking cough from the fourth floor of the men's shelter, the lit windows, the calling of a woman's voice next door: Pebbles, Pebbles! Pebbles? Pebbles, get back here... Pebbles?
Miaow?
Pebbles!
Door slams.
It's beautiful weather for a dinner al fresco.
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