Photographer Unknown, Occasionally There Were Humans
“Sometimes on flat boring afternoons, he’d squatted on the curb of St. Deval Street and daydreamed silent pearly snow clouds into sifting coldly through the boughs of the dry, dirty trees. Snow falling in August and silvering the glassy pavement, the ghostly flakes icing his hair, coating rooftops, changing the grimy old neighborhood into a hushed frozen white wasteland uninhabited except for himself and a menagerie of wonder-beasts: albino antelopes, and ivory-breasted snowbirds; and occasionally there were humans, such fantastic folk as Mr Mystery, the vaudeville hypnotist, and Lucky Rogers, the movie star, and Madame Veronica, who read fortunes in a Vieux Carré tearoom.”
—-Truman Capote, Other Voices, Other Rooms