Member-only story
“The art of losing isn’t hard to master.”
- Elizabeth Bishop (1911–1979), American poet: “One Art.”
It is noon.
Not “High Noon,” the 1952 film wherein actor Gary Cooper, a lone sheriff in a cowardly town, faces the prospect of fighting a band of outlaws by himself and possibly losing his life in the process.
Nothing so dramatic and nail-biting.
No ticking clock for me.
Rather, I am taking a break from work.
For lunch.
I am grateful my site of choice is within walking distance.
I need the exercise.
Getting there isn’t difficult.
It is a somewhat seedy section of town.
There are both better — and worse.
I’ve seen both.
On foot, I cross a busy intersection, take a hard left turn past a bus stop and keep going maybe half a length of a football field, and I am at my destination.
At that same bus stop I encountered a man trying to open a bottle wrapped in brown paper. He seemed about to break a tooth.
“You want some help with the bottle?” I asked.
He nodded.
I fished around in my black fanny pack, my equivalent of a woman’s purse.
Only I don’t accessorize; my fanny pack stays the same.
