The miniature business man must be made of sugar because he does not come out to demand pesos when there is rain. I waited for about an hour to see if he’d appear for his Friday night ice cream cone, but he was nowhere to be seen although his big sister, dressed in a pretty blue blouse, was in her usual spot with her candy and cigarettes for sale.
As I headed for home, I came across this camera shy accordion player. While he is tiny enough to hide behind his accordion (especially if he sees a camera), his voice is enormous and has a drawling, sorrowful sound. It carries from the middle of Alcala almost all of the way to Santo Domingo.
Sometimes it is his sister playing while he petitions for pesos, but probably the most profitable combination is when he is behind the instrument. The music makes him seem minuscule and immense at the same time.
shewhodaresnothing 
I wish there was audio. Sweet sounds.