Walking to the darkroom it was a cloudy late morning and the streets were silent and still. People walked briskly, no one was on their cell phone, cars just drove by, no one dared to honk their horns. As I stood waiting for the traffic light to change a teenage girl stepped on a broken light bulb, crushing the broken pieces of glass into even smaller pieces. The crushing pop of breaking glass was very beautiful. When I was younger my best friend and I would find empty beer bottles on the streets and smash them. We broke them partly because it was fun to break things, but also because it sounded so good. Then we would run away laughing looking for more bottles.