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July 24, 2010 It was mid-day and the heat was tempered by a breeze that seemed to come up from ravines and parks into the neighbouring streets. The group of boys gathered around the one boy and grabbed at his shirt exclaiming words that the boy didn’t understand. It was the corner of two adjacent streets. There was a legion up the way, and a postal office too. Everything was not old, but somehow had always seemed that way to the boy. Soon the group pushed the boy to the ground and he stayed there looking up at one of the blonde ones, wondering why he was doing what he was doing. Then there was the sun in eyes, and the blonde boy’s silhouette danced in and out of the light. The boy on the ground also saw the sky with its clouds, but the bright and full clouds also now looked old, like the postal offices, the legion building, and the streets. Some teenagers came by and watched the boy on the ground being kicked. One of them, taller than the rest, asked the boy on the ground in a contemptuous voice why he just didn’t get up and go home. Then they walked on. The group had more words for the boy, but he couldn’t hear them and could never really understand what they were saying when he did here one or two.
Soon the boys left, and the solitary boy waited there, still sitting on the ground. A cloud passed by the sun, giving a slight reprieve from the light. The boy did not want to see the light. He did not know how to say it, but it only cast knowledge on the world and the buildings and the people and it made his head dizzy with confusion and even sadness. Soon he did get up and go to the place that he lived, and sat among strange and old furniture as particles of dust floated in the air forever.
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