Tweed

Tweed

His hand holds back his tweed jacket above the hip as though he were making a point. Brittle hairs break off in his mouth as he chews his beard. He is not talking and he is not wearing a tweed jacket.

The kind with patches on the elbows. It is a blue hooded sweatshirt with the letters USA and the Olympic rings embroidered on the left breast. He exhales smoke with sunken shoulder and tries to look wounded. He has never been hurt and he has never done heroin.

No one is observing this. Not even you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s