>5:47 A. M.
Three roofers on top of the neighbor’s house ripping up shingles. Sunrise bleeding into the shade of the silver maple; the slant of a naked roof.
11:53 A. M.
One blonde man standing on the corner of Wicks and Main. No shirt, ninety-two degrees. One sign: Have you ever been desperate? One hand stretched out from the window of a black suburban.
6:07 P. M.
In the archway of a jeweled banquet room in a local Chinese restaurant, an elderly Chinese man crouches as he applies black paint to an ornate chair. Behind him, a waitress dressed in black with a white apron tied about her waist watches. Two sets of tightly sealed lips.