Weariness hung in the winter air
cold concrete and asphalt
warm breath spilled from their mouths
un-hated heads exposed
The signal told them to walk
The woman started across
the six lanes road
and then suddenly stopped
turned back
and grabbed the girl’s hand
the girl held
her baby doll by its hand
They crossed one lane
two lanes, three lanes
then the woman picked up her pace
the girl’s arm suddenly taut
displeasure registered on her face
The little girl dropped her doll
and stopped to pick it up
breaking the woman’s grip
the woman yelled
and pointed up to the blinking signal
She re-grabbed the girl’s hand
and yanked the girl to the curb
she held her baby doll by its plastic foot
its head dragged
and bounced across
the salt stained street
scuffing the plastic head

Jason Fisk is a husband of one, a teacher to many, and a father of two. He lives in the Chicago-land. He is the author of Salt Creek Anthology, a collection of micro-fiction published by Chicago Center for Literature and Photography; the fierce crackle of fragile wings, a collection of poetry published by Six Gallery Press; as well as two poetry chapbooks, The Sagging: Spirits and Skin, and Decay, both published by Propaganda Press. For more information, feel free to check out:

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