small and heavy burdens
A kitten died in front of me yesterday, its head a paperweight, small body writhing about, limbs like a gymnast’s, clambering, climbing against air. Within seconds a man redirected traffic to scoop it up and drop it by the road’s edge, then turned his back to resume loading a supply van. I remained in my parked car, staring where the body lay, now unmoving entirely. I was too far to see more than a vague shape, too far to detect breathing, only aware of its presence as a witness. The man didn’t l...
