Eight o’clock.

Directly under the North Star.

A puffy-shaped man in a blue poncho carrying a rolled-up sleeping bag and a gym bag approached a woman with hot pink shoes.

The man pulled a pickle out of his pocket and handed it to her.

The woman listened to the pickle.

She put one hand on her forehead and listened again.

The woman handed the pickle back to the man. She picked up his gym bag. They walked out past Orion, Cassiopeia, and the Big Dipper.