Unlike yesterday- the drops do nOt soothe. It's dark and soaking... a woman's trousers trail behind. The cochlea of my inner ear is cold.-Cavernous with the howl of the wind. Echoing-screaming through. And through.
The long cut provides no solace. Wind. Swooping around that J bend, carrying a sharp mist followed by nearly horizontal needles and a fierce blanket of air...
The garbage truck doesn't have time to smell today. Sent. Scent carried away so fast. SoO fast. Around the corner I am a skeleton. Trying to move-bubble brella, almost ruined. Legs heavy, upstream I wade.
My scarf unravels itself and coat opens.. skirt raises. Hair swirls, forgotten hat today. I crouch and huddle. Crossed legs and bend. Who is this wind that undresses me?
Forehead bare, my hunched shoulders protect me long enough to where I need to be. A dry five. Minutes. Wait isn't so bad... I get on grateful, with dread, and I see...
An umbrella all alone as my opposite.. Handle extended.That's when I realize things cOuld be worse. With mine clenched- in a tin can I travel to the week's beginning.
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