Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Week in Seven Words #182

A cold wind whisks me off the bench.

Toddlers play tag, round and round the fountain in a flurry of giggles and screams. It falls on the youngest, a boy with curly brown hair and a shy smile, to be "it" most of the time; occasionally, his mother scoops him up and runs with him to give him an advantage over the others.

At a small park by the subway station, a rat pokes around an elevated bed of shrubs, as people sit and read and chat just a foot or two from its twitching nose.

The clock face looks feverish in the dark.

A curtain of gnats hang over the lakeside path.

The show is a celebration of percussion; anything from stomping feet to brooms to trashcans can be turned into a musical instrument. Even newspapers can rustle together in a compelling rhythm.

I'm not sure where I am, only that it won't be hard to find my way out. In the meantime, I'm surprised by the appearance of a swampy pond, a stream pouring over leaf matter and rock, a clearing covered in yellow grass where an empty bench awaits a reader.


Naida said...

Fantastic as always. And I like "where an empty bench awaits a reader". That's a nice way of looking at it.

Nan said...

Oh, no, a rat, really? (Nan shivers)

HKatz said...

@ Naida - Thanks! And yes, that's what most benches look like to me :)

@ Nan - Unfortunately, I see them more and more around the city, not just in the subways anymore...

Relyn Lawson said...

I have always wanted to see Stomp. I show one of their videos to my students sometime and they are blown away.