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nnyThey followed him from the bus, sharks. The blood: the invisible pet he crooned to the whole ride through, the one that occupied a seat no one wanted to take. The blood: social security, the wallet tucked in his back pocket, the promising bag from the drug store. The blood: the age that hung heavy on his shoulders, his back, the twist to one leg.
They followed him from the bus and into an alley way, deserted and poorly lit and silent – for a moment. He walked out alone. For a moment, at least.
(The blood.)
“Good kitty,” he said.
They followed him from the bus and into an alley way, deserted and poorly lit and silent – for a moment. He walked out alone. For a moment, at least.
(The blood.)
“Good kitty,” he said.
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Date: 2010-11-05 07:50 pm (UTC)