A Gift

The sun descends behind the mountain, changing the light. The breeze adjusts its mood, brings a chill into the canyon. A man in a sport coat opens a metal gate to a bungalow hidden behind a manicured bush. Leaving the gate open, it’s easy to watch him place a single tulip on the brick steps. He knocks three times, though I cannot hear it. Returning to the sidewalk, the metal gate closes slowly, then latches with a click. Sunlight briefly illuminated the tulip as the man stepped away, then it disappeared from my sight. 

No. 111

Presence

In the corner of my eye I saw them. Two children sat perched on a staircase, shrouded in bushes and trees. Their muscles taut, they sat inhumanly rigid out of fear of being seen. And yet I saw them through the dark green leaves. I kept walking, allowing them their desired secrecy, but knowing their presence nonetheless. 

No. 032