Selection 5 of
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Momentsby John Kenton a bank of the Hudson, the New York side. The cops were there by the seawall; someone with a hook was lifting her up, she was bloated and green with the moss of the river hanging on. Get back! The cops yelled, Move on! The crowd gathered in a knot of oohs and aahs... transfixed, by the puffed up remains of a woman who was. Her eyes glazed over... stared at a scarlet sky. She was almost naked, the beads of the river slowly draining off her once smooth skin. I was twelve years old, couldn't pull my eyes away. The chill started creeping as the sun fell below the palisade. Red lights were flashing and silence fell hard as the ambulance arrived. They laid a blanket on her body ...took her away, I heard a cop say, she was young, maybe twenty or so... The winter appeared and the river flowed through the ice and snow. The spring came around, warmed up the city and Riverside Drive. I'd walk by the seawall after school was out; she would be twenty-one or so, should still be alive. The moments flashed and I'd silently cry. She was nothing to me... she was everything to me... and I didn't know why. |
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Selection 5 of
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