Abbo's Alley, late afternoon in summer. Hunched on the ground, a woman of a certain age, pointing a camera down toward the bank's edge. Darkness to the left and behind, bright light low on the right, bouncing off water. Rap music pounding a beat from a basement apartment at Alley's Edge, reverberating.
Enter three walkers of a certain age, one woman, two men, each with a small dog -- one Yorkie, two Westies. They're talking. Only a few words are audible outside their group.
Yorkie Walker: Some of the best writing I've seen. Two Chinese students. Never wrote in English till they came to the University. Just beautiful composition, so . . . .
A bit further into the Alley.
Female Westie Walker: George . . . ?
Yorkie Walker: Elliot?
Male Westie Walker: Henry George Lewes!
Female Westie Walker: Yes, that's right!
Heading back later.
Yorkie Walker: You know what novel I'd like to read? One about her relationship with her father. Now that . . .
Woman photographer stands.
Photographer walks back to the path, is soon followed by the dog walkers.
This Alley reverberates still.