Martin Gottlieb Cohen
On a cold fall day staring at the sidewalk across the street, I was amazed at its brightness. The sun warmed my face and I went into a daze and continued to stare, but out of focus until the image shook. Then I felt tugging on my legs. It was a little girl falling on me. The mother of the girl picked her up and the girl began to cry. Later I learned that the little girl and I were three and that soon after, she died of a blood disease.
a red brick's shadow falls on the next brick