Here's a taste

On Sunday I re-traced my steps, camera in hand.
I approached the bus stop to nab Frasier Crane, painted on the side of a newspaper box.
A half dozen bus riders waited, eyeing me. Nervous, I walked briskly past, camera in my pocket. Circled the block, walking slow enough that a bus rolled in. And disgorged more passengers.
Take the picture, I said aloud.
Out of the drizzle came a little person, a middle-aged lady about four feet tall who planted herself right next to Frasier. Great. She'd think I was photographing her. I didn't care about her, I just wanted this macabre-looking Frasier Crane.
Steeling myself, I knelt by the box and took the picture and hurried away. I chanced a look at her, the brassy blond little person, and she was staring down the street, willing her bus to hurry up.