Night Before the Move
Drew Kalbach

Aside from the mess, there are very few blemishes worthy of our attention.
Another transitory case of paralysis plagued the elementary schools. Plexiglas doors peel and crack. Radio announcements come through foggy, as if the road wound up a mountain. We're afraid to be caught on rooftops switching pants and hiding sideways glances, but they play samba music in the landlord's office. Ten more minutes until complete ocular meltdown. Pull the chord before maps are claimed and elevations are plotted.