Saturday, July 06, 2013

No Ending


...the sheer release of being in the air.
--Transatlantic Colum MCann



I sat in my car and watched a man try and fit a brown bag filled with just purchased beer cans into a pouch hanging over the rear of his bicycle . The pouches on both sides of his bike bulged with cans.

When the brown bag tore he went inside the liquor store to get another bag--a larger bag.

He stood on the sidewalk and kept looking left and right. Perhaps someone he knew could help.

It's been quite hot for the past four days and his cutoff pants and loose shirt looked worn down under the heat's glare.

After a number of tries he balanced the bag on the bike seat and began wheeling the bicycle.

He then maneuvered the bike and his cache of beer cans down the curb and up the curb. He parked the bike in front of a local bar- saloon- and disappeared. Perhaps he hoped to find someone to help or maybe he stopped for a cold beer and a game of pool.

At that point my partner returned and we drove away. I never would know if the beer in the cans heated up , swelled the cans and burst. I'd never find out if he found a helper or if he simply spent the afternoon and evening in that dark space.

I spun a number of scenarios, but never found an ending.






1 Comments:

Blogger nan said...

Keen observations and thought-provoking, empty non-resolution. . .

July 07, 2013  

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