My apartment mate is a very considerate and forbearing woman. She's been an absolute pillar during these past few weeks, and six months ago when I had the coronary stent put in, she was totally solid too. So, because she dislikes the smell of tobacco smoke, I have been going out to the front steps for a puff now and then. Which is how I came to realize something strange, beautiful even.
[During the days when she works and I don't, however, I close her bedroom door and open the windows.]
At night, after dark, you can tell that there are people a block or more away in the thick fog by the light from their cell-phone screens. Even if nothing else is visible at that distance, the glowing blueish white rectangles give them away.
Years ago it would be the flame flares from cigarettes.
But those are much rarer now.
Grey velvety mists, blueish rectangles.
Extraordinarily lovely.
I do not have a cell-phone.
I'm probably invisible.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
No comments:
Post a Comment