Twenty Eight

Posted on July 16, 2007

1


There are French windows at work, overlooking a very busy road.

Day in-day out, people commute along our lines of sight, rarely straying into our visions.
During torrential downpours, they huddle at the unofficial smokers’ lounge.

Today, a morgue van passed.

And then,
there are French windows along a very busy road, overlooking an office.

Posted in: 55, Prose