Die Writing

On the streets 2

Posted in Uncategorized by erdaron on June 14, 2014


This time, in San Francisco


She was ahead of my by a block and a half. Slight and wiry, she burst through the crowd of hobos and end-of-business office workers like firework. A purple dressed hugged tight to her shoulders, but left her back revealed. A blue tattoo snakes across her shoulder blades, but from the distance, I could not quite make it out. The dress closed at the waist, but then flared out. A long slit freed the fabric. The dress whipped and beat in the wind like mad wings.

She carried some large and heavy – I could not see what – the strain and the bright sun drew her muscles into a sharp relief. She walked with fierce confidence. I kept catching glances of her through the wake she’d left in the crowd. Eventually she turned a corner, but when I caught up, she disappeared.


His movements were languid and fluid, and sly and deliberate. In particular, his left wrist was practically limp, but in a way that suggested acute awareness of its relaxed state. He moved his tall, skinny body in a smooth, continuous, graceful way. Perhaps he was matching some mellow groove playing back, unheard, in his head. He walked on, in his gliding way, as the tree shadows around him stretched out toward the evening.