Views from the Balcony, Boxer Shorts Man

I write some stories when I’m in the mood to do so. They say (and of course you know who THEY are) artists only can be creative when the mood strikes them. So I’ll pretend to be an artist. But it really is true, I can only make jewelry when I’m in the mood( I never mentioned that I make jewelry. I’ll write about that another day. When I’m in the mood jejjee). Can only build stuff when I feel like it. Can only have…well, now I’m embarrassed with what I’m thinking now..anyhow.

The Boxer Shorts Man

An interesting older man I watched almost every day.

Early in the morning.

He was there in the garden across the street.
In his boxer shorts.

The old fashioned white type.

Lifting a piece of concrete.

Like it was a weight.
His exercise.

He worked hard.

Not paying attention to anyone.

After his workout he would squat down.

Looked like some yoga position.
He would stay in this position.

Many times for more than an hour.

I could never figure out at what he was looking.

About what he was thinking.

Or for that matter, if he was looking at or thinking about anything

I watched him.

Wondering.

Sometimes he would see me.
Wave.
Make motions toward the sea.

Toward the sky.

Other times he would point up toward the trees.

I smiled at him and waved back.

Then when he was finished doing whatever it was he was doing.

He walked back to his home.

Looking very content.

More of the Boxer Shorts Man next time…


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