Walking the nearly deserted main street, yellow under the fog and street lamps, I wondered -
What goes on here?
Inscrutable and unknowable, shielded by the sidelong glances given me as I walked into Grandma's Bar.
The mist deepened. To the south, the approach of sirens.
I turned towards the river and saw the ambulance fly across the bridge.
Gone into darkness.
Henry at night.