Towers gleamed in the fresh day. The balcony also afforded a view of the canal and other apartments. From them people issued forth, going about their business, some boarding air vehicles while most made do with a barge or simply walking along the water’s edge. As they passed each other they placed a single hand on their exposed breast and gave a little bow of their head. It didn’t matter who it was, free person or slave. Even though this was all so unlike my own commute on the el where people rarely looked each other in the eye, it still reminded me of Chicago, of how it should be. A couple of free men spied me on the balcony. They didn’t pause in their stride but still gave the casual gesture of respect.
I fumbled to reciprocate but was too late as they continued on their way. I was with
