The low-frequency hum of a portable CD player struggles against the screech of a city bus, but the smooth harmonies of Boyz II Men still bleed through those foam headphones. I watch a girl in a plaid slip dress and knee-high socks dig through her tiny backpack, grumbling as she drops **$0.79** onto the counter for a loaf of white bread, her coins clattering against a stack of Pogs.
The air is thick with the metallic scent of winter and the buzz of a world on the digital precipice, just before everything goes truly crunk. While the radio blares about crashing Asian markets, the street is just a cacophony of dial-up static and the frantic clicking of heels on cold pavement.
Memories from that day
No memories yet. Add yours if you remember this day.