This is a picture I did not take

of a man sitting in his car on the hottest day of the year, his seat reclined and the window rolled wide, making himself a mayonnaise sandwich with a Swiss Army knife. Nor is this a photograph of a young man standing in traffic, three lanes behind him and three lanes in front, his red shirt slashed by the last gasp of light from a falling sun, his mouth around the middle of his long gold chain as if that's how you're meant to wear one, with the middle in your mouth and the rest hanging down in two long arcs. Nor is this a photograph of a pit bull, panting alone in a van crammed with wilted flowers, his tongue licking the open crack of the driver's window as if it were made of sugar.