Saturday, December 24, 2011
Philadelphia (In Old City on Christmas Eve)
A winter hush blanketed Philadelphia.
I sat in Washington Square ringed by brick and colonial windowpanes. Few walked the night, and my breath feathered in clouds.
Once, this ground interred yellow fever victims.
I thought about them.
And generations disappeared.
I turned to see the spirit of the City next to me. A face of cobblestones. Eyes of jewelers' clocks. Forgotten streets lined its old overcoat.
It watched the orange lights. People in warm houses. "I like the feel of them," it said. "But no one sits here with me anymore."
The hush deepened.
"I will," I said.
(This 100 word story (exactly) is part of Loren Eaton's shared storytelling for Christmas Eve. Check it out!)