The sunlight paints saturated shadows, golden and azure and violet across the courtyard apartments, as if a street artist had at first plotted and then brought artistry to life with deliberate brushstrokes on the brick walls and glass windows of Barrow Street. The colors shimmer, trade off, and reflect like a kaleidoscope put to action. From my perspective, enveloped inside the late morning October illuminations, only the brightest celestial objects stand out against the parade of vibrant hues.
This is precisely when I spot Jerome, dressed only in Calvin Klein tighty-whities. He feeds his Basset Hound, Frank. He waters his window boxes, and plates Pop-Tarts alongside one freshly plucked, window box Gerbera Daisy plopped into a tiny, jade glass vase on a breakfast tray. I set aside an Inte
