Vast Gray
I jumped
down off the tailgate and landed awkwardly. The elevator
carried me up to a vast gray room, where others also broken
in some way waited. I didn’t know anyone’s name. A man whose
face hadn’t ever quite healed used the back of his hand to
wipe away dribble. I thought about the Age of Invention, why
it was called that and this wasn’t. In the corner,
heart-shaped leaves continuously fell because someone had
once forgotten to return.
