from Freelance
by Kevin M. Kearney

Simon waited out the next morning’s pre-lunch lull in the Italian Market, observing the vendors along 9th Street hocking food, fish, and unlicensed Eagles merch. John the Bag Man waltzed by the Subaru and waved, showing off his blistered palms. A Vietnamese family inspected the produce stands’ vegetables, disappointed to find that nearly all of them were already spoiled. Blood-stained butchers from Cannuli’s and Esposito’s loitered on their respective corners, smoking cigarettes and talking shit on the mayor.