I'm making up a story here. When she boarded the MAX Yellow Line train, the lady sat in the only empty seat and turned tightly to her right, holding herself so that she didn't accidentally look at the boys beside her or what leaned between the legs of the one with the black hair. That lady had a brother who loved his skateboard back in the 1960s when they were new to the world and much shorter, narrower, rolled on a different sort of wheels. It's been over fifty years, and she still can't look at a skateboard, it matters not that these days skateboards look nothing like they did back then. If she glimpses a skateboard, hears one clackety-clacking on the sidewalk, and the break in her heart freshens with her awareness. Yet her reaction has nothing to do with those changes and all to do with the fact that her beloved brother, drafted into the US Army, came home from Vietnam in a body bag.
2 comments:
Glad I looked in the tags- I wondered how on earth you'd have known that. Good street shot!
I love candid shots of people. And I love the tale as weitten. :)
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