She lived on the 9th floor of Putnam apartments. She woke to the sound of a little boy imagining a bank robbery. Putting her fingers in her ears, she continued to hear gunshots like they were right next door. Running to the door, she heard, “Wise guy, eh? I’ll pump you full of lead.” She looked left and right out the door, then ran down the concrete stairwell with bare feet.

Coming down to the bottom floor and out the door, she heard so much more than normal. The sound raised her adrenaline. She ran a couple blocks, passed the usual riffraff, then turned to an alley way and hid—kneeling—behind a dumpster.

A cat jumped from the dumpster, stood in front of her and said, “What are you looking at?”