Author: Edward Mullany

A man who’d lost his shirt, or who didn’t own a shirt, was walking from carriage to carriage in a...

In the diner I passed a booth whose occupants were involved in a conversation that seemed to be...

In a coffee shop, waiting for their beverages after they’d already paid for them and had stepped...

On a sidewalk in the city, out front of a building that had revolving doors through which people...

As I walked past the grocery store, on my way to one place or another, I saw, tied by a leash to a...

Even though the street was empty, and no cars were approaching the intersection from either...

Out front of a brownstone, on a sidewalk in a neighborhood in Brooklyn where people lived, as...

When I boarded the bus, I sat across the aisle from a young man who seemed to know the bus driver...

During the morning rush, on a train into Manhattan, a girl whose face seemed to have been injured...

In the city, in the afternoon, because I had nothing to do, or because I wanted to relieve myself...

A man who appeared to be on his way to work was enraged for a moment by an individual who rode...

At the bar, on the other side of a man who’d started talking to me about the regrets he’d had in...

At the pharmacy I waited in line behind an old man who himself was waiting in line behind another...

I was waiting for a walk signal at an intersection in Midtown when a man asked another man which...

Through the window of a café in which I was sitting, drinking coffee, I watched, but could not...