Dusk in Riverside Park. A spledid evening, indeed. Derek P. Freyre is jogging. To his left is the mighty River Hudson. It flows to New York City from…points north¹, Promoting industry and commerce everywherre along its course. He is proud to be jogging alongside such a momentous and important river. The lights of New Jersey are already burning a full sodium orange.

There's a barge, powered by two barge-pushing tugboats. How grand! Let's race.

HELLO! I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!

Shit. Derek looks toward the source of the voice.

WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION, YOU FUCKING ANSWER ME.

Were Derek's heart were not already pounding, it would start pounding now.
He's not talking to me, is he? What does he want?

ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!

No, up on the hill. Some kind of domestic dispute.

LOOK AT ME!

None of Derek's Business. He checks the time. 18:47.23

TURN AROUND AND LOOK... <The man's voice is interrupted by the repeated, sharp attacks of baying hounds.>

A dog runs by through the sparse trees to Derek's left, dragging three red leashes behind it. Derek has never seen a three-headed dog before. It is looks kind of angry, but enthusiastic, too, judging by the look on its faces.² Behind it a girl tugging two more animals is shouting desperatly the dog's name and trying to catch it. That's kind of amusing. The dog is called Bongo.

19:21.04