Tuesday, November 13, 2012
This is the block - down which I have not walked since it happened - where a man died this summer, in a bad night storm, struck by stones that tumbled from the steeple, in its turn struck by the bolt of pale blue lighting like a ball of barbed wire that made me hide my head in my hands as I sat at dinner with Vince, several blocks to the northwest.
There is no more steeple, now. They worked day and night, seven days a week for months to remove it. I should post all the pictures I took of its unbuilding.
I miss the steeple.
Better days ahead. And worse, too, right?