Dear Anonymous,
I was out with my camera per usual at first light. On my own. Per usual. As I drove out of the city I saw him sitting on a park bench by himself in the sun. Hat off. One arm over the back of the bench. Looking relaxed. He recognizes my car. I pull over. Mask. Check. Gloves. Check. Social distance. Check. If I am asymptomatic I sure as hell don't want him exposed. That's why.
He places two crumpled twenty dollar bills into the bin in my car.
'Get some baking supplies. I like your baking.' he says.
His face is swollen. His speech thick and raspy all at once.
I ask him to reconsider. Take back half? No, he says adamantly.
He responds, 'I got my stimulus check.'
I know he has recently enjoyed a bottle of Jamesons, a favorite of his. I assume there will be many more purchased.
But I am on the street and someone on the street, in the street, of the street has donated to Dear Anonymous.
Let that sink in a bit.
He accepts socks, a coffee card and a pair of pants. The currency of connection.
PS: The gentleman described is not connected in any way to the location in this image.