July 3, 2024:
Pop Warner in the park.
Small boys big as fridges in their helmets and pads.
Bored moms in deck chairs on their phones, completely disinterested.
Your author watching out for stray balls on trajectory toward his face.
It's late afternoon in summer heat.
Pretty mom fastwalking.
We close fast, from orbits in opposing directions.
"Cool hat," says Mr. Effusive as we pass.
"Yours is nice too," replies Mrs. Cheerful.
"Yours is better," he laughs, and she does, too.
Skid marks, truck-size, from the hospital parking lot across the street and over the sidewalk,
all the way into the riverbed.
Someone had a very bad day.