a trick of the light (observations from a patio in July)

The moon is a little more than half. The right side (my right) - is bulging slightly past half-full. Bulging to the left (my left).  I am facing a brick building. In this light, if I use my imagination to see some statuary and I blur my eyes, it could be a Prague building. I never appreciated late afternoon/dusk lighting terribly much until I lived in Prague. Now I think of this golden glow on the building, with the backdrop of a blue sky (and in this case, a little more than half the moon), to be Of Prague. I don’t think anyone will argue with me on this. It’s as Of Prague as it is Of Anything. The man sitting with the lady on the patio is making the face that says “I am a kind man,” which I notice and immediately do not trust. He may be a kind man! But it’s a face I don’t trust. What a world. There is a lady with long, sharp-pointed pink nails sitting on the front steps of the building reflecting Prague Light. She has on a gray tank top and jeans with ripped knees, and her hair is straight and goes down to her cleavage, which is impressive and makes me wonder what it would be like to have such cleavage. She has tattoos across her chest and between her breasts, and is wearing hoop earrings and laughing as she talks into her headphones. She’s got a bottle of laundry detergent to her right (my left). She’s still laughing. I’m glad. It’s nice to see people laugh. There are kids playing across the nearest intersection. The man with the Kind Face just recognized a doctor with an Italian last name who happened to be walking by, and the doctor and his walking partner stopped to talk and both the doctor and his walking partner (a lady about his age - "early senior”) both mentioned what sounded like "other halves” being somewhere else, and I was wondering if maybe they’re having an affair but I think it was just wishful thinking because there was no awkward tension and they mostly talked about his walking partner’s granddaughter who is an RA at RISD over the summer and she just had to send 4 high school students from the summer program home because they got drunk, which is illegal. Now the lady sitting on the steps is silent and looking at her phone. Kind Face man is talking with his Dining Companion and I don’t care enough to listen. No offense; I just can’t care about everything. And now there is another lady on the front steps. She has pigtail buns which for a half a second had me wondering if she was a very young woman or girl, but she’s not. Probably about 35. Her hair is blonde and she also has jeans on, but her jeans do not have holes in the knees.  Her t-shit is white and since I mentioned the other lady’s breasts, I will mention that she is also generously endowed. I don’t usually remember about breasts, unless my attention is explicitly drawn to them. The two Porch Ladies are talking. Now they’re walking together down the street towards Bryant Street Laundry as they talk. They stop, still talking, outside the laundromat. The lady with ripped jeans heads in with her bottle of detergent for just a moment and heads back to her apartment as her compatriot continues on towards Elmwood.