Myrtle avenue, Wykoff avenue, Palmetto street: a Bushwick junction. Cars, pedestrians, above the ground subway lines, below the ground subway entrances, children on bikes, a few elderly with canes and walkers, a wheelchair, cart pushers, bottle collectors, pan handlers and baby strollers. A woman speaking spanish into a microphone powered by a portable amp shouts. I take her picture as I walk by her and smile. She switches to English and warns that every day lurks as our last and that we must praise the lord, so I cross the junction carefully feeling her elongated silence. When she begins again, she is speaking spanish and I am already on another avenue looking for Grove street.