From nothing fictional but the accuracy or arrangement (she...
walks down the street with a person--walks down the street with a person who doubles as a screen for her shadow, if not screen from the eventfulness from which it just so happens, from which it just so happens that she needs protection--and the gentle hand that pushes the screen back from her face
in her latest field of vision--watches a family moving out from the eighth-floor window, a slanted conveyer belt--last to go are the children, well-practiced on their playground slides--easily, gently, smoothing their way down oh down towards their new abode
catches something good, this morning--a whiff of unmistakability--and the problematic need, or pressure, rather, to throw it back in, with feigned enthusiasm and cheer and let-go and all, standing still standing there with both arms out until her shoulders hurt, not what she signed up for, no not at all
|