There’s a ratty old hoodie I occasionally think about throwing away. The cuffs are stained with bleach. The sleeves no longer reach my wrist. More than once, a kind soul points out the small stain just right of the zipper. I’m quick to explain its origin…
It was the limp that caught my eye. In a bit of a rush, a common state of being for me as of late, I grabbed a shopping cart, quickly tallying my purchases against the quickest route through the store. Eyes on my phone, I almost ran into him. The…