My hand cracking the icy shell through to the powder beneath.
The blood stains on the sidewalk of a faraway place.
The 4x6 photo of my twin nieces with its thick black frame.
The tall, black street-man who smiles at me through his babbling by the Farragut North Metro.
The low moan of my full-bred Dalmatian when she needs my attention.
The frantic screams of family members touching hands to the body being carried on a make-shift stretcher.
The waggling jaw of the politician, or athlete, or movie star, sending out his message.
The satisfying click of the equals button on my calculator, hit emphatically.
The boxed smile I offer to whichever glazed figure appears in my latitudinal line of vision.
The polite chuckle I sometimes force to avoid further effort.
The words spilling across the screen, endlessly.
The itching creeping up through my guts, threatening my settlement.
The liquefied brine behind my eyes, alert for its chance.
A moment to reflect.
I'm full.
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