The park and the sun and the day were calling our names. We walked and we sat and we walked some more. The horses were out, gorgeous and silky, and I wanted to touch.

Down Eleventh Street, a grin from the video store boy. I just want to say, not to say anything about anything, and especially not to say anything about anything that anyone might actually have done, but, oh, it is too bad when you turn around to check someone out and they are standing right there watching you check them out.

In the deep red cool at Café Regular, there were magazines and perfect coffees. My subscription to “Vanity Fair” ran out last month, so of course all of a sudden I am desperate to read every last page of the current issue. And, damn, now that I write this, I realize I forgot to check out my horoscope.