Slipping Out

Slipping Out

Last evening I slipped out at dusk, wearing tennis shoes, office clothes and a rain jacket the color of twilight. It was too late to change into sweatshirt and tights. There was time only for the leaving.

And so I forgot the trappings, the music on a string. I bolted before the moment and the impulse left me. Open on my screen was an article, mind food. Beside me a book of poetry.

They would wait. The walk would be something else, I knew, nourishment of a different kind.

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