Here is another of those two-sentence stories with poetry added. I’m thinking of them as “Minuscule” and quick to read.
Read the first Minuscule, the explanation of why I wrote it and got started on this idea, and search under the category Minuscule for others in the series.
And now – all the Minuscule stories have been made into a print book – each story with a pen and ink illustration. Click to see Minuscule on Amazon.
I walk and I have my street-scorn attitude going strong – looks to me like vandalism hasn’t missed a day of work here in this section of town, I think, and then I begin to notice the big red hearts: on the side of the railroad underpass, the gate of the old factory building, the grate pulled down over the library’s main window, the wood fence around the body shop, the sign announcing new construction on a vacant lot.
Vandalism, yes, and then again maybe it’s Love tattooed streetside using a can of spray paint: somebody lives here, this is somebody’s place, I think, as I follow the string of small red hearts emblazoned on the cracked sidewalk, and I wish it had been me who’d said so.
the old tree leafs out
hearts come home rest in its shade
a bird builds a nest.