Way Beyond Talking About
A u-turns on a busy street on the way home from work, horns honking, people waving their fists, lighting cigarettes with the dash lighter, dialing numbers on their cell phones.
At home someone’s burning chopped onions on a skillet, washing dishes at the sink, tying off the plastic garbage bag, half listening to a talk show on the radio.
In the yard a boy dismounts from his bike, let’s it fall in the grass, comes barging thru the front door, goes straight to his room, slams the door behind him, takes his computer out of sleep mode.
Soon enough it’s dark and they’re all in their beds. No one sleeps. They stare up at the ceiling.
It’s way beyond talking about.
