Cold Boston parking lot decked out in 8 pm gloom. Broken glass and snow alike crunch crisply underfoot. The chill creeps in through warm sweaters and windbreakers, freezes nose-hairs in its frightful power. Power to kill without bias anyone who falls into its icy embrace.
Catering truck alone in an oasis of uncleared snow. Advertises warm Mediterranean delights that don't fit in this cold, cold night. The sea of shining black pavement expands ahead like the Atlantic, unbroken and vast.
I hope you are considering a career in writing, my poetic son. Really.
ReplyDeletelove,
Mom