#112 Thaw

by Megan Doyle

I came to unravel my matted mind, left tangled by a tedious February. I pull in alongside the others overlooking the harbor, all seeking refuge from rush hour.

Muffled waves of talk radio emanate from a sedan to my left. The driver, sitting very tall, seems almost regal in his high-collared wool coat. Narrow rivulets glint along his stubbled cheeks: the final, dignified tears of letting go.

In our collective isolation, we stare, determined, at the water’s surface, a sheet of creased aluminum in the sinking sun. We pray that in witnessing that extra minute of light, we might renew our faith in second chances.


JRVogt said...

Quite the short, yet evocative scene. Makes me want more.

bookspersonally said...

So compelling- love how we are drawn into the characters' sadness even without knowing the exact cause for their pain. Makes for a haunting image.