Calligraphy

Calligraphy by Jesse Bradley  The man waiting in front of you for his coffee evaporates. The last of him asks: Why me? You wait for flecks of his blood to fall but it never comes. Your neighbor wonders: Where am I going? When his son comes looking for him, you point to the empty set of clothes at your doorstep, then up to the sky where new questions linger: Can you hear me? What happened? Is this it? You stop looking up after the third day when you feel your wife’s hand…

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