i am walking the concrete beside the pool from my shaded chair, book in hand and camera on back. i walk solemnly and contained with a tension that is reminicent of the last man on earth. so no one speaks to me. head down when i pass people, softly closing the gate in graceful quiet motion. the wind ceases when i turn the building's corner - into the shadow and cool. there is a woman standing behind the door of the sports complex looking out over the parking lot. she has something white bundled in her arms. when she turns and walks away it turns into a white rag.

later

i walk resolutely. the same path, the same people. book in arm, cup in hand. no shirt this time. my shadow on the concrete reminds me of a superhero's bony profile. last man on earth.