as the mornings darken, I imagine the paperboy’s mother will soon be joining him. if my wife can stand her, she doesn’t say. what she cannot stand is living here. the paperboy’s ******* mother- what a dilemma. I’ve seen that boy with his fingers in his mouth as if something is there to explain the purple chore of his being. I’ve seen his black teeth. I’ve seen dogs bite his elbow once then leave him alone. I’ve watched his elbow heal a day at a time not once adorned with bandage. seen him crack a dive bird to ground with the rolled up paper of my neighbor. who prayed over the bird and raked it to gutter. whose cat brought the bird to my step, yawned, and dropped it. seen that boy look dumbly at a mosquito on his arm and I’ve seen him let it finish and remain fixed on the spot minutes after. hours even.