Unable to move. Unable to speak. His mind screams into the sea of people. They cry for their own attention. He cries behind a chiseled grin. They do not hear. They do not see the ponderous, stone giant.
They do not care.
Photos show my old school friends laughing and playing with their children.
The years have been kind, I think, and they have had children late in life.
Then I realize the adults are children of my old school friends.
I feel old.
