FICTION - SIDEWALK SURFER

He flew down the sidewalk, his skateboard invisible beneath the ankle deep leaves. He couldn’t see the bumps or cracks, but he wasn’t worried – he had slick new wheels.

The leaves whispered dryly as they lifted and floated – sighed as they settled back down. As if his passing did no more than stir a heavy ground fog. A couple walked towards him. With the slightest shifting of his weight and a subtle tilting of his hips, he deftly slid past them.

Without provocation, a wind began to blow in from the north. Within minutes this fine Autumn day began to grow teeth. The leaves blew up in circular patterns – sometimes rising above him. He pulled his knitted cap lower over his ears and pumped a few times with his left leg. Building up speed as the decline increased, he rolled into the street at the next driveway, turned the corner and hopped off at the Java Jive.

With his skateboard under his arm he staggered in and wailed, “Dude, pull me something strong and creamy! We’re gonna need cajones today.”