In the city downtown, people travel in the tube with their heads bowed; many are wearing headphones: hardly anyone makes eye contact.

I only come downtown for the necessities; passports and doctors. Today, both are on the menu.

Sidewalks are under construction. Bathrooms are closed for repairs. The melting pot has melted.

Getting past the receptionist is the unknown in a world of unknowns. I make it to the doctor who greets me warmly and agrees to sign my daughter’s passport.

They will call when it’s ready. No one has to tell me not to hold my breath. I stay quiet and think of more pedestrian times.

Dennis Mantin