Saturday, November 14th, 2020

Close to twilight on a Sabbath afternoon, the city square at first seems deserted. I look and listen more closely. Across from the shoe store, two women stand talking. Each has a hand on a wheelchair. The man in the chair doesn’t appear to be listening to them. Further down, another man sits at a stone table. He sips something from a coffee cup with a plastic lid and eats something from a clear container. His phone softly plays music that I can’t identify. Two young men on a bench talk in what I think is Arabic. Two children zoom down the path in front of the stores. The girl, dressed completely in white, rides a bicycle. The boy, wearing bright colors and patterns, rides a scooter. They come to a stop at the front of the square. A pair of grownups eventually catches up with them. They all sit down in a group of chairs there. The girl gets up several times to circle the square on her bike. Each time, she goes around once, then returns and sits with the others for a few more minutes. Near the street, an older woman twists and bends, waving her hands in the air. It looks like she is doing some kind of exercises. Another woman walks through the square toward her. When they meet, they walk together, arm in arm, down the street, away from the square. Children’s voices echo from outside the Great Synagogue at the far corner. Their screeching merges with that of the invisible birds in a tree outside the Heart of the City mall. As the sun sets, more people appear. After dark, the sidewalk fills with people. Some shops open. Traffic gets busier. Buses line up at the stops. The week begins.