From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Sight
I leaned against the brick wall, humming *Put On Your Old Grey Bonnet* while watching the sun glint off a passing motorcar’s brass radiator. My eyes scanned the morning paper, and I let out a whistle at the headline about Harry Thaw’s sister trudging ten miles through the woods to see a judge; that poor girl is truly devoted, though the law must be a total blockhead for refusing her request after all that work. I adjusted my stiff high collar and checked my reflection in a shop window, eyeing a new deck of Rook cards while the rich scent of roasting coffee beans drifted from a nearby café. The world looks bright today in its Gibson Girl silhouettes and feathered hats, even if my pockets are nearly empty.