
On a whim he decided to pull out his Grandfather's coat from the hall closet. The wool smelled like cedar and must as its heavy weight settled on his shoulders. He reached his hand into the right pocket, hoping to find a long-forgotten dollar bill, maybe a twenty even, folded and hiding in it. Instead he felt nothing but a small tear in the lining, a tangle of threads around a hole that led to the inner folds of the seams, full of crumbs and little gritty things like sand.
Snow swirled outside as his friend pushed open the heavy door.
-from Every Object
Snow swirled outside as his friend pushed open the heavy door.
-from Every Object
2 comments:
I stand in awe of your ability to title every piece you write, no matter how small or fragmentary.
Well, I couldn't very well post something without a title... besides, I'm planning something a little bigger than a fragment with this one.
And of course titles are subject to change at whim--and occassionaly due to absolute necessity
Post a Comment