
A VIEW FROM THE CITY by Elliot Alpern
I see the backs of your shoulders—there you are, right there—on a bench by the harbor, where it’s windy, and where there’s a nice clear view of the monster ambling toward the city. “Hello,” I call out. You look each way, left and then right and then left again, but not behind, and so I jog lightly to your bench, take the seat beside you. “Hello,” I say again, this time a bit breathlessly. “Oh,” you say, “hey, I thought I heard your voice.” You look the same. And that’s with some years, a different haircut, a sort of quiet…