From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Sight
I’m squinting through the neon glare of the theater district, my bobpped hair tucked under a felt cloche while the local big cheese struts past in a sharp wool suit. Between the headlines about Harding’s European commission, the shop windows are overflowing with those floppy Raggedy Andy dolls and the latest silk stockings. I can’t stop humming "The Sheik of Araby" while I adjust my kohl-rimmed eyes in a polished brass storefront. The song is everywhere, a frantic rhythm that makes me want to dance right onto the sidewalk despite the damp spring chill.