A bag of crumbs
By thespin
He sits. In silence. Eyes. Blank. Staring. Rigid and stiff. Never blinking. What is he thinking? Loaves of day-old-bread in front of him. Slowly tearing it apart. Slice by slice. Bit by bit. Breaking it into small fragments. Tearing at it, over and over. White dough snow falling. Crumbling. Cascading. Descending. Never bending. He sits. A man with one goal. To break bread. To feed the birds. A once proud man. Now. A child. His life reduced to a bag of crumbs. Written October 16th, 2001 © on Oct 16 2001 08:48 AM PST 0 • 1
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About this line
"He sits. In silence...."