little hal fall face first from an open doorway onto a cement sidewalk. slow motion. i turned my back for a second, a nano second, a second long enough to grab my coat from a chair. i missed the fall, but i saw him push his little body back up. i saw the blood on his head, his nose, his hands. he was so hurt he couldn’t cry, just open his mouth in the raw, silent wail. i couldn’t stand it. and now i will see that face–that betrayal of the world–whenever i close my eyes.

curse pavement.
i don’t suppose we could throw all the thought we’re pumping into curbing the effects of global warming (like i said, i could use a little heat) and use it to cover the world in that spongy stuff playgrounds are made of … ?