In the alley behind City Lights, you step around words like these:
And while you wait for them to open, you stare longingly through the window:
A couple of hours later, you’ve bagged your swag:
And after the best sausage and mushroom pizza on the planet, you head back to where you parked your car in Chinatown and spot this under your bumper.
What’s your idea of the perfect Sunday?