he stopped walking and leaned
against a public trash built like incinerators once were decorated concrete
immovable a round metal bin and cap fitted within
it was Old Town a historic district to game tourists
he was another kind of tourist
he didnt belong anywhere
he didnt have roots
and maybe that was whyafter all these
years he realised why his many siblings didnt
come West but remained steadfast burrowed in their Midwest domiciles places they called home homes in neighbourhoods among friends and
acquaintances
he didnt pursue friendships or
community
fact was friends required
cultivation and time
he had plants and ferals
his cultivation card was filled
up
bingbing he brought his cell up to his
face as he leaned against the stout stone-aggregate trash receptacle
his brotherinlaw texted him
absently over the top of his fone
he nodded to a woman who stood inside a shop facing him through its open door
she nodded back
Fourth Quarter texted : Want
a ride down or rather walk about?
:
Had errands. I’m within five
minutes of Molly’s.
:
K
they were meeting for a beer
texts came in from his daughters
he wrote them he was meeting
their uncle
in between the sudden flurry on
his cell he glanced up and saw that the young woman was still watching him
he acknowledged her again a simple nodhe didnt know her from Adam from the disarray
inside the shoponce a cafe he assumed a change of venue a new business venture
he wasnt curious
rapping out succinct replies he
noted the time Fourth Quarter expected hed
be there at 1615 hours
it was 1610
he texted his girls : Got
go! I love you.
placing the cell in a pocket of
the rucksack hanging from his shoulderstill leaning on the rocksolid trash he
glanced up again at the woman
she was still looking at himin his direction
he wondered if she knew him
he looked harder at her no she wasnt familiar
Ohno NO
she wasnt familiar to him
he rocked up off the receptacle nodded once more to her she nodded back then he walked up the street
in a harness slung before her her baby a toddler had her breast between their kneading hands suckling
her blouse was wideopen in a V her breasts exposed
she wasnt shy she was a mother breastfeeding
he wasnt shy either
hed breastfedhad a six-pak of wet
nurseswas always on the lookout for an opportunity though didnt particularly want
to share
at least not with an infant
at least not with an infant
1545, Monday,
26 3. 18
1509, Day-between-Two-Ts, 28 3.
18
Crosby, Stills & Nash Cathedral
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wI7phwtRjUA
