“The praying man tis’ missing a leg…
Domingo thought about the implication. The weeds had grown thick in front of his window. The street and sidewalk had been partly obscured by green reeds and thin leaves.
The summer had brought rains from the north, tearing through the valley with a lion’s ferocity, the storms had uprooted trees and tore the roofs from buildings. Fitting for such a violent occasion as Domingo’s arrival.
He had moved all of his belongings to the first floor of Jack’s apartment building where he would be able to maintain his posture as an employee of The Trust.
He feared that with no car and little mobility, he would be a sitting duck, free to be taken advantage of. Jack helped to quell these fears with chivalry. His version of it anyway.
Upon one of her many trips to see him, Fallon would take note of the insect that had taken a liking to the window where Domingo spent most of his time debilitated.
“Did you see that little guy? Looks like you have a friend.”
She raised her finger at the brightly lit visage. He peered. He had already taken note of the medium sized preying mantis that clung to the screen with an insects tenacity.
“It’s missing a leg”. He said with a matter of fact tone that came naturally to him. She watched the creature carefully. Moving slowly, it would scale the window’s outer screen looking for flies of which there were many.
Of course, Domingo, having fallen upon bad times could not help but think deeply about its symbolic meaning. Praying Mantises were rare to find in the city. This one showed up as if it were sent. He was too drugged up and helpless to formulate the idea into a rational argument that he could convey to her. So he kept it to himself.
She didn’t.
“Looks like you have a friend. And it looks like you have something in common.”
“Leg problems”
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