59. Holly walked down to Sheepshead Bay on a cool, winter day to enjoy the view from the wide walkway near Pier 10. She sat down on one of the many benches facing the bay. A group of young people walked by four abreast—man‐man‐woman‐woman. Holly thought that was odd.
A dad walked by pushing a stroller. The rock music he was listening to was loud enough for the baby to hear too. Holly saw the baby waving its arms. Was it dancing? A teen girl with dyed, bright red hair startled Holly as she zoomed by silently, and illegally, on her bike. Holly figured it was just a matter of time before she injured or killed a child or an elderly person.
A dad walked by with his little girl, saying, "Don't do that. It looks stupid." Another little girl walked by, asking her mom repeatedly, "What's that?" Two older women walked by arm in arm. Holly wondered why men never walked arm in arm. A woman walked by pushing the flimsiest stroller Holly had ever seen. It had four tiny wheels. Holly hoped that there was a dog, not an infant, inside the stroller.
Missing Holly's feet by inches, an old lady whizzed by on her big, red, four‐wheeled motorcart. Holly didn't even know the name of the vehicle. It wasn't an electric wheelchair, and it wasn't a car. But it looked like a small car. It looked like something that belonged on Emmons Avenue, not on the walkway. Holly hoped, but only a little, that the old lady would collide with the red-haired teen. 4.7, 271
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