Even as it stays hotter longer, theres more leaves skittering under bike tires here in the Central District, at a corner of a playground, hair salon and coffeehall. i tap my device. rachel sits across from me with two fingers pushing up her left cheek into her glasses. the little green man appears and disappears. the glowing red hand sometimes takes its place. i was going to change the world again, but need to catch a bus to a job where people look up from their devices long enough to tell me whether I should shake or stir.