Tailor

Tailor

When the TV was off the unit made a particular

sound. It was a sound that conjured the image of

a very small tailor sitting at an old foot pedal

powered sewing machine near an open screened

window in a sharp slanted light passing his

leathered hands across the cloth as his foot

pumps and the wheels spin and the metal clacks

and clacks and clacks

with each rotation. It

hums a little which

might be him, hemming

shorts that once were pants in a constant

clack clack clack

that stops every now

and then when he

feels you starring.