"Do you have any smokes?"
The kid in the Afro asks me.
"No, I don't,"
I tell him.
"Ah, this sun is nice,"
says the woman with what sounds like an African accent.
"Look, Mama, I'm riding him,"
shouts the boy on the sculpture of the frog reading a book
to its spawn.
Then the front door opens
And we walk into the quiet room.