3:30 pm — Trudging through the snow, coming home from the library, reserved copy of Evil Dead 2 in hand. A high school kid stands on the corner, probably waiting for a ride — no coat, just a black Bob Marley t-shirt.
“Birthday today,” I say to the kid.
“Bob Marley’s birthday today.”
“Dammit. Well, happy birthday.” I wave as I pass by; the kid waves back.