when i was 20, i moved to chicago for the summer. i was young, naive, and terrified of living away from the false security of the suburbs. upon waking my first morning in a 300 square foot shoebox, i was instantly ambushed by anxiety - the kind that kierkegaard once described as the dizziness of freedom. desperately needing something to do, i walked two blocks to the corner market. on my way back, i noticed a woman in her 70s who was clearly living on the street. she was eyeing me suspiciously when suddenly a grin greeted her face and she shrieked, “WHAT’S UP, CUTIE PIE?!” i can still hear the rasp of her voice ricocheting off the concrete cocoons surrounding us. what i remember most about that moment though, is neither the self-conscious shock nor the realization i wasn't in kansas anymore - only the irrefutable smile that accompanied me back to my apartment. sometimes i wonder what became of this messenger of mirth, who by now has surely departed. i like to think of all the humans she haloed with her audacity to simply bid for connection. what i wouldn't give to play back the tape and see myself turn around, crouch to kindly offer her one of my shiny red apples, gently whisper, “what’s up?” 📸: maximus mazar