In the old part of town, between the river and the Railroad tracks the streets are unusually wide. When the trains still stopped and freight was unloaded it would be hauled away on wagons, drawn by horses. They needed the room to maneuver. The buildings along the streets are close together, sharing common walls. All are 4 stories tall with small shops on street level and apartments above. In time, without the trains, it became the bad part of town. Seedy bars, cheap rooms, empty shops.
One of the buildings was used as a club house of sorts, for an outlaw biker gang. In a dispute with another club their building caught fire and was eventually torn down and not rebuilt. It left a gap, much like a missing tooth.
In time the area became gentrified. Upscale bars and restaurants. Antique stores and small art galleries filled the shops. The apartments became expensive. The city beautified the area. Putting in traffic islands, planter boxes, brick sidewalks. The gap was cleaned and trees and benches put in. It became a passageway between the shops and the parking lots behind.
One night, I was at the bar with friends from the local theater company. I was deeply involved in conversation with one young lady, who was new to the company. We found ourselves still talking when the bar closed. The weather was good so we started walking and found a bench, this bench. We talked until past dawn. Leaving there, hand in hand, we walked to my place several blocks distant.
Shortly after arriving she informed me she was married. That was not the end of the conversation I was hoping for.