Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Threshold

He stood poised beneath an oak in the late afternoon sun.

His body crouched and twisted, hands up and at the ready, eyes watching some point in the distance.

He burst forth, exploding from his stance with a grimace, bearing teeth.

He was sprinting. Running, pumping his arms in his faded gray shirt and red sweat pants.

His short cropped gray hair encircled his head. He was an older black man.

He was running repeats yesterday.






No comments: