Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Quiet Evening

Of quiet days and quiter nights, when a television sounds like a theater, a man can cook himself dinner. He can eat his meal sitting by the window, as the magnificent music of traffic and conversation from a few stories down float up and drift beyond his living room, like balloons pressing up against the glass, streaking and noisily dragging its hide. And that man can eat and laugh at the television, as he also hears a record player carrying the faint tunes of yesteryear and the foot taps of dancing on hardwood floors. And before he even makes it to dessert, he’s already thinking of the days when all he did was swim by the dock.

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