Scramble Down

Years later, when their blades had dulled and rusted into their sheaths, the two of them sat down and talked things over. Neither was as quick to anger, neither willing to raise their voice when they felt they weren’t being understood.

They had tea.

The table was outside, in front of the restaurant, a large awning stretching out, keeping the high morning sun from their faces as they talked a little but mostly watched the younger people walk by; faces creased, eyes squinted, hurried steps, making it seem like they had to climb a damned steep hill to get anywhere.

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2 thoughts on “Scramble Down

  1. Hello! I got your comment on a word of substance, and I just wanted to say thank you. Also – would you mind posting comments to the actual cleaver site? I’m trying to get some comments on the site!
    As for your blog, it’s fantastic. The way you space things out, the rhythm I suppose, has a real and authentic quality to it. One small example in this piece is the way you say ”they had tea”. It gives the timing a special punctuation. Thanks so much again.

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