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Watch Your Step
A Tripped Up Warning
Reminder—his Mom had texted earlier—since the pandemic this neighborhood’s sketchy characters, both dealers and cops, have been even sketchier. Watch your step.
But,well, there he was—Clever Trevor (his brother’s name for him since he got accepted into Columbia University last year)—face down on the ground.
He was coming up the stairs from the subway, stepped on his own shoestring and—wham! Even with the afternoon sun overhead it was like they say—lights out!
There was ringing in his ears from all the churches in the area. Everything from the real metal and clapper bong of St. Augustine’s to the pre-recorded tintinabulations played over the speakers atop Our Lady Of Perpetual Help.
People have come close, he can hear them asking if he’s okay. Doesn’t seem to have the tools to answer. They seem hesitant to touch him.
I’ve got to be there, I can’t be late — he thought, his mouth suddenly metallic tasting, wet against the fabric of the mask. Time is of the essense. They’ll be serving the cake soon and they’ll need these candles.
It was dark all around and he was quite aware that he was falling upward, away from the earth—his eyelids fluttering as he soars through the stars, cigarette butts, chewing gum and…
