the sky already sheened like gun metal when the tardy garbage truck came. it gobbled chop-chop the plump black bags splayed in front of our block's tallest building and worked its manic way down to ours. in a trice, the truck drove away with everything unwanted in its gravid belly.
then on, the air cleared as if electricity had passed through it, allowing things, as if by a miracle, to be accomplished at all in this languid summer's morning.
as in a swift dance, a towing crew hauled away smoothly this long parked, rusting sedan across the italian bakery. the yellow bus came and picked up three moony kids downstairs, too early, perhaps, for their summer day camp upstate. the taciturn couple was back on their lawn chairs, rocking themselves to the beat of their understood silence. somebody generous had already flange-opened the water hydrant catercorner my building, attracting, as of now, a horde of parched pigeons. and my impatient heart exhaled as it heard this beautiful ring from my phone long indolent since midnight.
