It's daytime. I'm walking in the unknown neighborhood named Kensington.
I hear the sounds of the birds chirp high above me in the trees. Footsteps of sandals smack against the pavement. My dogs ‘nails scratch against to pavement too. A high pitch bark interrupts my dog’s harmonious pace in walk and breath. My dog's deeper bark responds back. The sound of his nails on the pavement last longer (as I'm trying to pull him away.) A heavy panting is all I hear from him the rest of the way home. As we continue on our way home I over hear the hard forceful steps of a running child, smack... smack...Smack of their feet against the floor. “I win!” a little boy’s voice says. A response from a little’s girl voice was saying something in Spanish. An older woman’s voice speaks in Spanish and although I’m not fluent I can tell she was reprimanding them. A man on with a cell phone was yelling in Bangladesh as he passed me. I couldn’t tell which was louder his voice, or the annoying sound of his paints swishing. I hear a car approach closer and closer that sound morphs into a consistent purr as I wait on the corner. Engine roars again in motion. Tick tick tick from the green box hanging on the light stand. Zoom… Honk from a rushing car passing. Pat pat pat of flat press the cement and keys jingle as a muffled voice grows closer. Then I hear a young girl’s Brooklyn accent say, “Like yeah, can you believe that?” The voice pauses, the pat pat and jingle starts to fade; her muffled voice resurrects itself from a distance. We’re home.