Wednesday, February 20, 2008

cold

High of 6?? No, you don't feel my pain (you folks, south of here).

I wait at the bus stop. In the shelter hut. I’m not a fan of them. What can I say -- they are dirty. Still, they offer protection.

A couple sits on the bench. Very young. She snuggles into him. He’s detached, but it could be an image thing. She takes out a pack of cigarettes. Why you doin’ that? – he asks. I paid for them! –she protests. And look, I won $3 in the lottery! And then – hey, look at these! She takes from her pocket a crumpled strip of photos. Fetus photos.

He glances over, says nothing. Look here, you can see his wee-wee. He looks, says nothing. She lights her cigarette and only now do I notice that she could indeed be quite pregnant.

I also notice that she has a tooth missing and that she is wearing ankle socks. On this horribly cold day.

She snuggles into him again and lights her cigarette. I leave the shelter.

And the whole episode just shakes me on so many levels.


I get off on campus, pick up a cup of coffee at the bookstore and walk to the Law School. You know how you can tell it’s icy cold here? The guys are not only not in shorts, their heads are covered.

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My class ends late. I look out my office window. For a long time. Just a person or two out there, on Bascom Hill.

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I eat a sweet potato chip and head home.