From the anthology, Complaining to the Clock, a work in progress.
One Brick At A Time The boy shimmied like a determined squirrel upward stretching reaching for the ascending bricks of the chimney flue. one brick at a time one foot snugly ensconced in its leveraged place and then another toe-hold there as he sat atop the roof of the old rumpus room out back amidst the ivy vines and the palm frond towers with a Tareyton Cigarette ad affixed to the glass door he saw his special friends again gliding in the distant wind unseen except by him, the boy who stood watching the break-in up there a square door the size of a house opened masterfully and unbelievably with fire and burgeoning smoke and then it closed again with a shifting cloud concealing the In and Out Door for all human souls ever created from here to there, from now to then they took him for a speck of human time erasing his memory of all unknown encounters until a later time now
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