as the not-so-big boss puffs his third cigarette for the day inside the air-conditioned office room,
as the mother of the other sister rings the phone of the common father,
as the fraternity brother prepares his pitch to beg for money,
as the wife drives to work to fix the problems of the world,
as the grandmother wipes the first tear that came from her newly-operated eye,
as the former what-could-have-been-but-not lover experienced her first orgasm from her two year husband,
as the expatriate reads the story of hans van den broek and the murder of chuck ramkissoon down the subway station,
as the birthday celebrant reads his earliest greetings,
as the president surreptitiously snatches a bar of chocolate from the fridge,
as the blogger erases his ninth draft,
as the self wonders why,
a bird feather was trapped in a spider’s web that hangs on a pair of shrubs buried under the concrete marriage of gravel and sand anchored to the soil of the city of angels.
happy birthday tay fritz!