Micro Burst On the River Path

He walks the river path in the morning. Walk might not be the right word; what he does is more like a shuffle, and his heels have worn away the fabric of his too-long pant legs. He looks strong and has the shoulders of a weight-lifter or a wrestler. He has tattoos on his face, a tear in the corner of one eye. The yuppie runners give him a wide berth as they jog past, eyes averted, voices too loud as they discuss investments and travel plans. It is cool this morning, for the first time in a long time, but he is still over-dressed. My guess is he wears his entire wardrobe. When he passes me, he shoots me a quick, appraising, look. When his eyes hit mine, I smile an easy smile. I see you I say. With that his eyes light up and he smiles back. S'up? he says. Chillin' I say. Nice day he says. You too. Two neutron stars collide several hundred million light years away. Waves ripple out. Time bends. Gravity hops a ride with light. He straightens up, lifts his eyes. It might be my imagination but his step is just slightly lighter, perceptibly lighter. Maybe.