A few years ago I bought a baseball cap from a street vendor in New York City for $5. I've worn it fairly often until about 3 weeks ago when I couldn't find it. Two days later, I was walking home from a morning down at Noble Coffee and found it lying in the middle of Sherman Street, soiled and flatter than a pancake. It'd evidently fallen out of my jacket pocket where I'd stuffed it in favor of a warmer ski cap one cold morning. In the interim, who knows how many vehicles had run over it.
I decided to take a picture and laid it on the backyard deck. Juneau, our cat, decided to share the spotlight in the morning sun as I snapped the photo.
