Friday, July 8, 2016

Week in Seven Words #296

The neon fizzle of lemonade and the odor of fried food at the street fair.

On the subway, he sits with his head nestled between huge headphones. As the train screeches around a bend, he bobs his head and smiles.

"In the divorce," she says, "I got the friends. The good friends."

Among the books displayed shoulder-to-shoulder or on their backs along the table, I find a collection of Yiddish stories. It smells like it's been waiting in the back of a bookcase for its day in the sun.

The child pushes away her mom's hand. She wants to try walking on her own, away from the hand that clutches at her shoulder and arm.

I love watching adults do cartwheels or dance spontaneously.

A hard blue river foaming at the mouth.