Being part of a series involving Chicago and its surroundings.
There wasn’t a streetlight nearby but the lights were still on in the restaurant, spilling onto the sidewalk. Through the window you could see two men in white aprons and baggy checkered pants putting chairs on the tabletops. The three kids sitting on the sidewalk watched them without much interest. Mostly they talked to each other while carefully balancing styrofoam containers on their knees, using plastic forks to scoop tangy strands of pulled pork into their mouths. A bus hadn’t come by in a long time. But nobody cared. They still felt the warmth of yesterday’s sun, stored in the sidewalk beneath them where they sat. It felt good. As the last bites of their meal vanished down their gullets, faint drops of rain suddenly began to appear on the pavement. There wasn’t a bus in site.