Crossing the Street

by Matt Gasda

The air was dry, his breath was shallow and weak. He readjusted his gloves and coat, waiting to cross the street. The color of the arrow indicated he could cross. He had seen her but she had yet to see him. The cars ran by him. It had been a long time.

6S

Matt Gasda is a writer; he can't help it. You can read some of what he writes here.