He’s So Heavy
Spring is my favorite time of year, though it tended to be a bit cool in these parts until late May. Most of the other seasons I could take or leave. Winter sucked, but I didn’t mind it, not really. Most of my friends bitched and moaned about it, and my coworkers at the bookstore—Shirley in particular—spent the months until summer came around again begging for warmer weather nonstop.
Maybe the fact that I’d lived on the streets for a long time back “home” tempered my attitude somewhat. I knew what bone-chilling cold was like, huddling with other people around a fire in an attempt not to freeze to death; jacket never thick enough; thin gloves gone missing; guarding the sleeping bag that “fell” out of someone’s truck at a gas station with my life. I never talked about that ti
