Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Supper on the Harlem terrace


Warm night supper. The jets overhead to La Guardia, the hacking cough from the fourth floor of the men's shelter, the lit windows, the calling of a woman's voice next door: Pebbles, Pebbles! Pebbles? Pebbles, get back here... Pebbles?

Miaow?

Pebbles!

Door slams.

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