Where the white plastic chair seems to have lost.

Where the boy says into his red plastic cellphone, "Are you trying to be mean to me?... Well then what is healthy?... So then use apples!... Yeah, fight them with apples!... 'Common, are you Punisher or not? Then act like it!"

Where in the window of the newest cupcake shop on the cupcake-shop-saturated Upper West Side one man sits alone.

Where a boy, inspired by nature, reinvents a phrase he's never heard: "It's so cold it hurts... yeah, it hurts."

 

 

Where on Amsterdam Avenue a boy points to a piece of cold, uneaten pizza, peeking out of its grease-stained bag lying on the sidewalk outside of the CVS that used to be a bank and says, "That pizza is DEAD."

Where on the Dolphin expressway one boy listens to music on headphones to keep car sickness at bay, another boy stops counting the seconds to the Miami airport to say, "hit me, hit me, hit me, it's your destiny," to the third boy who is arguing with his father about whether opening the window will make him hotter or cooler.

Where the surface of the water off the coast of Miami is the same color and stippled texture as the cover of a motel bible.