He stood there, a case of beer tilting his frame on the slick and shining street. He had been in the rain that day, he thought. He had been there. Clouds were still moving low and fast and yellow above him, and he paused, looking up, exhausted to his bones. A long breath in. One out. It dawned on him now what a horrible day it had been. The day, a thing, a space in time. He felt like he had been in a fight- pummeled and bruised, but still standing. Standing there beneath those clouds, breathing that air. And there he stood: still trying to exude some sort of good into the world. One more deep breath, and he stepped toward the stairs.
No comments:
Post a Comment