Wandered Off 4
Slowly and gracefully the flower untangled its wind-blown leaves and petals.
She dropped her hands from her ears confidently……..
At the next stop I calmly stepped from the train. Such a beautiful day.
“Bob White!” “Bob White!”
Do you play cribbage by any chance?
Fifteen two, fifteen four, fifteen six….
Yes. That’s the one.
A sudden case of the nerves or flu or maybe she was just too damn hot in that heavy sweater. It was stifling in that train.
It’s suddenly like a storm has passed. The pavement is wet as if a rain had fallen while i rode the train.
Once one proves his worth by wearing a crisp suit and a power tie the frantic knitters quickly transform from his harshest critics, to fiercest allies, to helpless puppets.
“April showers bring May flowers“. True, and totally irrelevant.
The train, must forget the train. I gag at the thought.
In school the janitor always rushed quickly to the scene when some poor kid puked.
wasn‘t that a game show?
Remember how Richard Dawson used to kiss every woman on family feud?
How the hell did he get away with that?
Thinking about adopting that practice.
Blindsided! The old hag wakes from her nap, likes up a fresh cig and suggests: “You should start with your new friend from the train“ she cackles with cruel delight as I recall the smell and nearly vomit.
Did they so misjudge me? Her?
There was another possibility……but why?
Why would she hate me so much?I am used to it: the sounds of organisms. The flutter of bird wings often wakes me at dawn.
Now, I walk with purpose. But, I don’t know where. I had almost forgotten that I carried her shoes in one hand, her purse in the other.
A thief? No. I consider throwing the shoes in the trash, but sadness overcomes me. I pity the foolish girl.
“kiss her then!” The hag rejoices, sending herself in a coughing fit And me to the closest trash can.
I will return her shoes. I will. The bottoms, the soles are scuffed where she hesitated at the gate. She hesitated…..
I feel your judgement upon me.
Did you not see her eyes? Long and lean, like a cat. Beautifully dangerous.
But the eyes!
I did not touch her. No.
Her shoes fell freely from her feet.
I simply retrieved them from the floor. To slow her pursuit. Of course.
The purse? We all have our flaws don’t we?
Look at the time! Must hurry along.
DONT MAKE ME YOUR SCAPEGOAT!
But time has healed.
She is wired back in her place. Her electronic companions humm and blow warm air at her throat. So unlike hungry hateful dogs.
He puffs contentedly on his pipe.
Cinnamon is the scent of the day.