La Calle
It’s summer in Brooklyn and the streets are filled with domino players. There’s laughter, and drinking, and heated exchanges in Spanish, and stray one-dollar bills, and men and women flirting in the evening heat. In any given four-block radius in the Latin areas of Brooklyn you will find at least twenty games of dominoes being played on cardboard tables, crates, the stoops of brownstones, on a fold-out table, on a turned-over bucket. It is a bittersweet scene, tinted by nostalgia, a reminder of the Cuban diaspora.
