July 15th, 2015
I walked through the Bishop Arts District this morning, the streets finally quiet after a night of Bastille Day reverie. French flags still droop slackly on their poles while a paper cup skates across the street like a weed. A woman in jogging clothes steps out of a cafe. Her Americano is steaming, even in the early morning mugginess of the Texas summer. If the street is remains barricaded the barriers are now invisible.