Saturday, June 04, 2011

Though the dull brain perplexes and retards

I went out to walk the dog. It was late, after midnight, very white but yet three weeks off the ultimate. We are blessed in my neighbourhood, for we get nightingales.

In my building, many windows were open. Behind one, close to me yet in her own world, I heard a woman cry, alone, no other voice, just hers, crying, crying, inconsolable. I reached out my futile hand, without thinking.

Then my dog and I walked on into the night.

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