Weep for Me
“The sort of morning when you look through the bars across the front of your teller’s window, and across the tan marble floor and out to where sunshine glints off the chrome of the cars waiting for the light. A day when the girls have changed to their summer dresses. I kept looking up and watching them when they waited for the light. The wind always whips around the bank corner. They would hold their hats, push down at the skirts that tried to balloon upward.
Pritch caught me at it. He came up behind me and said, “Kyle, that’s a hell of an occupation for a citizen about to be married.”
I guess I blushed, because he laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “You’ll be like me, boy. Three kids and I still window-shop. Want to change windows? I can’t see the corner.”
“Maybe I ought to,” I said.
You could tell the sort of morning it was from the way the bank customers acted on the other side of the grille. Cheery. That doesn’t happen too often in a big city bank.
A man named Merton wanted hi...s balance checked.MoreLess
Pritch caught me at it. He came up behind me and said, “Kyle, that’s a hell of an occupation for a citizen about to be married.”
I guess I blushed, because he laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “You’ll be like me, boy. Three kids and I still window-shop. Want to change windows? I can’t see the corner.”
“Maybe I ought to,” I said.
You could tell the sort of morning it was from the way the bank customers acted on the other side of the grille. Cheery. That doesn’t happen too often in a big city bank.
A man named Merton wanted hi...s balance checked.MoreLess
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