It was the part of town you shouldn’t be in, unless of course it was your home. The sidewalks grew with long roots of cracks and the street looked as if it had some kind of disease with the potholes speckling it like smallpox. But there was something different in spring, the smells were sweeter and the gray took on color. Held as between two arms, the kiosk felt the caress of a purely white blossoming plum on one side and a newly blushed magnolia on the other. Those two made it look like that dismal newsstand had had a facelift. I smiled. But that thought was gone as I saw on the black and white newspapers:

Sex

Money

Power

Again in the wrong part of town.