Confounded by wheelchair inaccessibility, a man near by self-consciously slurps soup. The spoon disappears into the firm fist of his right hand. His left hand holds up his bristled face, while with a shaky steadiness, he lifts the spoon to his mouth. He stares down at his bowl, hoping the shadow of his hand might hide the platoon of rebel muscle spasms attacking his face.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Soup
Confounded by wheelchair inaccessibility, a man near by self-consciously slurps soup. The spoon disappears into the firm fist of his right hand. His left hand holds up his bristled face, while with a shaky steadiness, he lifts the spoon to his mouth. He stares down at his bowl, hoping the shadow of his hand might hide the platoon of rebel muscle spasms attacking his face.
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