Long Odds

. for public domain Under a lamppost near a street corner, well after sunset, flipping a quarter, waiting the glimmer, a faint window light, across the dark street and up just a flight, he paid no mind to the ice and the drizzle, glaring though pain as hard as a chisel. Would she in anger leave with her promise, prove he was only a vain doubting Thomas? Passersby gave him hardly a glance, shrugged their shoulders to a stooge in a trance, one thing for certain, this man and his plight, win her or lose her, it would be a long night.