Walking Sparky last night, I stopped to read SN&R under a street lamp. Things were quiet, calm.
I focused over the newsprint and suddenly noticed a pair of tennis shoes catching the light in the jet black darkness. Odd. Then I realized they were attached to legs. Suddenly I realized there was a dark-skinned man in dark clothing standing quietly just a few feet away. He was fishing out a cigarette with one hand and he held a beer bottle with the other. He didn't say a thing, but nodded and quietly started walking away.
Ever-confused, Sparky decided to follow him. The man leaned down and petted Sparky until Sparky was satisfied. Then without a word, the man stood upright and quietly vanished into the night.