On George Street in the city, a woman waits to cross King Street with her dark-haired, school-dressed daughters.
One daughter, five or six years old, is dancing on the spot, alternating feet in a vigorous double-hopping motion. The other girl, head down, standing as still as a statue, gazes at her phone. She’s nine or ten.
Without looking up or losing focus, moving only her feet, the older girl suddenly joins in the double-hopping dance with her little sister. It lasts a couple of seconds, then she’s a statue again.
Their mother stands between them with a crooked mouth, staring into space.