Untitled - Campbell University

PASSING OF TIME
A tiny ‘burg’ stuck between the hills, dying a quiet death in desolation, stillness
covers a Saturday night hanging on the streets like moss.
The signal lights blink green, yellow, red while a single horn sounds through the
night; somewhere on Main Street a portly gentleman holds a bible and preaches to
the street.
The gentle breeze tries to cool the concrete towers heated by the sun. A lonely man
shuffles down the street that once some thirty years ago, held dreams.
Night settles in; the ringing of a telephone from an open window breaks the silence,
a dog barks, death comes a little closer. Hollowed remains of buildings take on a
ghostly look.
In the far off distance, a siren screams its mournful cry as it rushes to save the injured.
Next door, pink roses dead from drought turn brown on the fence. It’s as if
the roses are the flowers on the grave of a town dying.
Down the street on dirty concrete steps a lonely woman drags on a cigarette, in her
hand a beer warmed by neglect. Sitting, waiting for something wonderful to happen
in her life but afraid it never will.
A stray cat darts across the empty street going nowhere.
—Ann K. Belmont
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