Time stopped at four twenty last Thursday. The minute hand slid down the marble face, keeping pace, never floundering. Like the finger of a coy lover. Unsure, onward. As he hovered over his eternal partner, he buckled. A cold hug, a long surrender.
Unlike a fool who bases his being on that yellow yellow leaf wavering in the wind, beautiful, evanescent, a moment of heightened existence, I hinged mine on those steady daggers.
Bent over gadgets, none notice or fix. What of me and the yellow leaf that held on? I sit under a soaking shawl – shiver and pulse dueling it out. What is a man to do in a world that doesn’t look up?
Vinny Senguttuvan is writer, photographer and data scientist. His short stories have been published at many places including Emerson Review and Word Riot. He is currently finishing up a novel.
Photograph by Vinny Senguttuvan