The Unswung Bat

Wednesday, November 12, 2003
More as the Story Develops

Hustling into the phone booth, I have to push against one of the yawning doors and lean against the other, and then slowly shuffle around in order to end up inside the box. In the process, the newspaper I'm carrying gets scraped out of my hand and I have to lean over, bumping against the walls of the booth and gingerly bending my knees in order to reach it. I can barely see the floor but for some reason it's covered with peanut shells that my hand is sweeping around like a shepherd of dead bugs. There's also an empty yogurt container. Mostly empty, I discover when my gloved hand comes back with three fingers coated in milky film.

Finding my page again requires me to pull one of my gloves off with my teeth. I do this to my clean glove, which comes off reluctantly and, since I can't spare a hand to hold it, gets dropped on the floor.

A little shifting around gets the newspaper nestled into the crook of my arm and with my one free hand I leaf through it until I find the picture again.

original site + text contents ©2004 twenty oh four by me called it

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