Front Steps in the MorningA Story by flacojust a snippet of life I saw on my way to workShe was sitting on the tiles of the front steps , a two
story brick walk up, one early fall morning.
The sun was out and we were headed for a beautiful day but those tiles
looked cold and the steps lonely. A crooked mosaic with the name Francis Marion in blue broken tiles was prominently embedded before the door and could not be missed..
I wondered for a moment who Francis Marion was and why his name was placed here for all who pass by to see . I thought to look him up later. She
was comfortable there �" in a familiar place �" lived there I’m sure. Not the only person either who sat on those steps ,
a can overflowing with cigarette butts and an empty coffee cup off to the side testified to
that. Smoking her first cigarette of the day and drinking a cup of coffee �" she was waking up to meet the day or the day
was up and going and had found her here , in this familiar spot . The smoke
whiffed thru her lungs numbing her mind while it also satisfied her craving.
The coffee coursed thru her veins but no longer brought the stimulated she craved �" just
brought her up to a flat line. It was Tuesday only but she looked deep into what was a long week., Dirty blond hair tossed around from a night of
sleep, face a bit swollen needing to be washed, eyes puffy , yesterday’s make up clinging
still. an age of unknown years but but to old now to bounce back as quickly in the mornings
like she used to �" no - now the choices she made at night met
her hard the next morning and it took well into the morning to rebound I wondered if Francis had ever lived in this building , had he ever sat on these same steps smoking in the early morning. © 2019 flacoFeatured Review
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1 Review Added on November 16, 2018 Last Updated on January 2, 2019 Author
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