As We See It

[The Backstory]

What a broken lock hanging on a tree says about humanity


Fourth Street | Downtown Las Vegas | October 2, 2015 | 10:17 a.m.

I’m not sure why I stopped so far from Fremont. Maybe because it was Friday. Or because a dear friend used to live in Soho Lofts, and parking in its shadow made me feel like she was there. In any case, I had eight blocks of Fourth Street wandering into Downtown’s kaleidoscopic core. I was surprised by the neatness just west of the Boulevard, the manicured lawns of law offices and the windows of Juhl like polished dominos ready to tumble on tidy streets full of spinning fall leaves. Here and there ugly Vegas litter ruined the view, from spent taco sauces to a dirty wig to an ottoman obviously tossed from a moving car. It made me sad. People suck, and all that. And then something caught the light in a tree, a broken lock hung carefully on a thin branch like a Christmas ornament. Whoever cut it probably stole a bike. Whoever found it made people suck a little less.

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