I am sitting next to a woman getting French lessons in Alexander Coffee. I overhear the expression “très bizarre” and think “my sentiments exactly.”
Dogs in packs roam the streets or lie indolently on the sidewalk. I cross the street repeatedly to avoid them, not wanting my presence to be interpreted as a challenge or confrontation. It is reassuring to finally see the occasional dog on a leash, tethered to an owner.
Robb cooked good omelets and stews until the Huntington’s Disease began to erode his memory and concentration and physical coordination. He collects pills to end his life when the degradation becomes too much to bear.