She Let Go
I am calm and cool, warm and not, at the same time. A brisk autumn walk, turned coldish at the end. The grandpa I passed wearing a leather Eagles jacket and black knit cap shivered and breathed into his cupped hand as we passed. “Cold,” he shuddered with eye contact when we shared the same sidewalk square for an instant. Moments before I had been sitting on the sidewalk, taking in the warm glow of the tree across the street. I felt the frigid pavement, but it was worth the sit. The phone stopped working just before I arrived here. Despite there being some percentage left in the teens, it suddenly stopped playing the podcast, stopped letting me add photos to my Google Keep memo of ideas and reflection, stopped acting as a camera. It just went black, and apparently shut down. I shoved the device in my pocket thinking this must have happened for a reason. I’m meant to enjoy the rest of my walk without distraction. I turned the corner and there in front of me was a magn