In the greystone shadow
of the old jail, three men share
smokes and anecdotes. Two
wear drab and polished black,
the third raises his cigarette
between cupped hands.
Metal glints at his wrists.
In thinking about what to say in reply – other than ‘thank you’ – I found a possible title: camaraderie. That was the atmosphere (spirit?) I had observed and was hoping to evoke. (Yep. For once I’ll admit that ‘it really happened’, or, at least, that I saw that scene, though the reality may have been something else entirely.)
My only criticism, and it’s a small one, is that among smokers cupped hands usually means they are trying to hide the lighter from the wind; or lighting the cigarette from another – so the cuffs only appear on the second readthru.
I think that’s the point: the sound of the conversation, the natural stance etc. is all so ordinary that it’s only the brief glint of metal that changes the viewer’s (reader’s) interpretation.
Took me a moment, but a fine piece. One wonders whether the metal is related to his vice.
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In thinking about what to say in reply – other than ‘thank you’ – I found a possible title: camaraderie. That was the atmosphere (spirit?) I had observed and was hoping to evoke. (Yep. For once I’ll admit that ‘it really happened’, or, at least, that I saw that scene, though the reality may have been something else entirely.)
LikeLike
My only criticism, and it’s a small one, is that among smokers cupped hands usually means they are trying to hide the lighter from the wind; or lighting the cigarette from another – so the cuffs only appear on the second readthru.
LikeLike
I think that’s the point: the sound of the conversation, the natural stance etc. is all so ordinary that it’s only the brief glint of metal that changes the viewer’s (reader’s) interpretation.
LikeLike