[Shadows of tree branches across a grass hill and a sidewalk]

There were three people on Pier 62/63, spaced out across the row of picnic tables at the foot of the pier. The man at the far end played “Making Whoopie” on a clarinet. In the middle, a man wearing a sport coat and a beret leaned back and watched the mountains, then stood abruptly, jogged out to the middle of the pier and circled back. I think I was doing nothing – only holding down my end of the pier. The clarinet player played another song, and the man in the beret jumped up again and ran another half-lap.

2 thoughts on “Idle

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>