We eat at Boke Bowl, a high-ceilinged wonder dedicated to Japanese cuisine.

Shrimp Ramen Noodle bowl.

Pea Salad, one of the best salads, period.

Ominous clouds over dry pavement and the thrum of the masses,

homeward bound.

Water Avenue Coffee, but not for us, not that night.

Art for whizzing trains and ivy climbers.

Like a secret, meant for us all.

On which side of the tracks do we lie?

Light my world, the night, a brick wall.

Heading north.

I will roll my ankle on shattered glass while singing the praises of their Mortadella.

Said emphatically, like a Roman on a scooter!

Nibble on Whiffie Pies, chocolate coconut and mixed berry.

All before a drop falls and we head home.

Happy.