amaze me machine. | home
yellow leaves.
A mother is walking
down a street when
she in confronted with
a blind man who
claims Collins Road
to have disappeared.
Leading him to a
nearby gas
station to ask the clerk
for directions
and buy a box of
crackers, she runs
into an old friend.
They small talk
about their children,
somewhat competitively
sharing science fair projects
and cutest quotes
from their kids.
When she has finished,
she turns to see the
blind man gone, and
continues down a
red brick sidewalk
passing clusters of
people, mostly teenagers,
-some smoking cigarettes-
and she jots down
in her planner to
have a talk with
her kids about that.
The wind is crisp
and the cold is harsh.
She takes refuge
in the hood of
her deep purple
parka. Deep purple.
Her favorite color.
She remembers
when she would
go to the bank
with her mother
they would always
hand out grape
suckers. The prettiest
color of purple. One
of the few things
she can remember
anymore.
She stops in the
photo lab to pick up
some photographs
of she and her
husband in Hawaii.
On their honeymoon.
Eighteen years ago.
She found the roll
in the bottom of
her suitcase.
After glimpsing
at the happier times
when her husband
wasn't always gone
on "business trips".
She buys a cup
of coffee, and walks
to the crosswalk.
The red hand tells
her to wait her
turn, and thoughts
of jaywalking cross
her mind. Oh well.
She was in no hurry.
She turned to see
the blind man
on the other
side of the street,
and forgetting about the red
hand, walked
in front of a
1964
white
pick up
truck
And three of
her kids
grew up to be
smokers.