A Profile

Beneath the scorching sun of midsummer, a pampered, aloof sort of girl declared that there are four windows through which to view a person. - She was not the only one by his side, for he'd had a wounded girl thrust upon him - a wounded girl who could not help but depend upon him, as the girl he had known for so long once had. - Now, however, that old friend of his vanishes in the dead of night to prowl where an ordinary girl should not. - The blue sky of the stadium and the filth of the city streets spread out before him; unsustainable aspirations and an unsustainable love beset him. - What in the world is he thinking as he gazes at their profiles?​