5593. I MARRIED A STORY

I MARRIED A STORY

I married a story to a tale and got an epic. No one

told me what to do. I see this guy walking, every 

day, and  -  frankly  -  I worry. He carries himself 

all wrong, too lanky and stiff. Same black gabardine 

pants with a shirt. Tucked in no less, and a belt strap

the leftover part, too long for the loop and just hanging.

On his head, the same black baseball cap. No hair, it

seems, at all under that. Now, I don't mean a week or

two; it's been like 15 or 20 years, same stuff. He walks

down my street, past the house, about 10:15 each day.

Headed somewhere. Then back again, just cruising

past the other way about 4:30 every day. Whew!

-

Maybe there's a job somewhere at one end or the other:

cutting cloth for manufacture, mailing letters for some

attorney, an office on a second floor downtown. Or

perhaps reviewing payments for insurance claims.

I don't know but I'm sure he doesn't shoe a horse.

-

I'd like to follow someday just to see. Yet, that's

not my style at all. I'd rather just make 
things up, rather just let him be.