DELIVERY: PAUSED
A puddle tremors
beneath the tyre's basso hum—
the firmament sunk
to pewter.
The carrier rattles: lentils, peas,
metal worrying bone.
A pulse conducts him forward.
Delivered: Client 11.
Returned: Client 34.
Address not located: Client 66.
Wet asphalt exhales iron.
An elder’s hand
alights upon the parcel—
warmth threading apprehension.
Peppermint breath,
a fissured laugh.
He smiles, tasting
the ghost of something kept.
Past encampments—
blankets breathing with damp.
Protein bars nested
like provisional vows.
Gloves saturated. Knees ossified.
The city persists.
Then—
the pavement shears.
Snap.
Night fractures.
Blood unfurls, intimate, undeniable.
Gravity exacts its claim.
The phone convulses.
Where is my order?
How long?
“Hospital,” he says.
“Leg fractured. Haemorrhaging”
Urgent: Client 12.
Order incomplete: Client 47.
The device keeps cadence
with his heart.
Hospital fluorescence.
Ferric tang on the tongue.
Antiseptic’s reprimand.
Even supine, he inventories the load.
The system does not abate.
Then—
his father’s voice, unaccelerated:
“Son,
have you remembered to nourish yourself
while sustaining the appetites of others?”
He reclines.
Pain metronomic. Motion unceasing.
Something within him
finally granted
repose.
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