Going Away Man

paddles to the station sits in an air conditioned bus gnaws salty pretzels–the grizzled bus driver gruffs a greet spends every day ferrying passengers back and forth to Boston city of sticks and stones–when the bus arrives at the terminal which smothers several square blocks traveler snatches up his suitcase puts away papers & phone & whatever else he took out on the long ride packs it all away crumples empty cellophane–stands & legs it to the exit steps downstairs & makes his way outside sniffing smoggy coolish downtown breezes stomps his feet then walks to a hotel located ways away fortuitously situated by the office where he is expected next morning so the doctor can check his poorly eyes & trickle drops onto his retina until the light of a single candle feels like a strobe blasting–makes him wink away tears for an hour–so he trudges across the city to get to his mouse trap hotel where he finds no hot water but will shower anyway–if I was there I would complain to the front desk but he doesn’t–takes it cold then wraps himself in a towel & calls to say he is fine misses me longs for the life we used to lead which makes me laugh since he is sentimental but I am hard-boiled.

About Karen To and Fro

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