Saturday’s crowds swirl noisily, tasks to be done, lists to be completed. They break around each other like self-considered waves and rocks. The street vendor’s cart announces sherbets, pictures of satisfied faces making the exchange clear. An older couple approaches, the man ordering for both while her hand waits, raised like a well-mannered but eager child’s on a market trip. The couple walks on, she with an arm through his, savoring the routine, repeated moment with teeth and tongues. Familiarity breeds contentment: Two cones, two scoops each, bright lemon and lime paired and glistening.