Jan
8
A Lonely Wind
January 8, 2011 | Leave a Comment
It was a lonely wind. Leaves and other Fall debris fled before it, scratching and clicking at the cracked pavement. Small animals sheltered themselves in the folds of crumbling buildings, hunched down, squinting, trying for warmth.
A single person, wrapped in layers of old clothing, walked the sidewalk as the dusk approached. Collars upright, hands in pockets, eyes fixed ahead, half closed. There was a sadness with the person. It felt as if they had touched their last touch. Loved their last love. Had their last warmth of soft skin on soft skin. And the half-closed eyes kept a forward glance to force the heart to keep on beating. As if to avoid a certain death. As if just one inward look would bring the end.
It was a lonely wind.
Remember.
