I WENT TO THE BANK to get my money for the day. And they had painted it yellow. Under cover of night, I shrewdly supposed. With white plaster letters saying CREDIT DEPARTMENT. And a row of new vice-presidents. But I have resources of my own, I said. Sulphur deposits in Texas and a great humming factory off the coast of Kansas. Where we make little things.

Thinking what about artichokes for lunch? Pleased to be in this yellow bank at 11:30 in the morning. A black man cashing his check in a Vassar College sweatshirt. A blue policeman with a St. Christopher pinned to his gunbelt. Thinking I need a little leaf to rest my artichokes upon. The lady stretching my money to make sure none of hers stuck to it.

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