The Drop
It took a long time to fall, or else it took less than a second. The drop was thirty feet; gravity was acting on me at thirty-two feet per second squared. I can’t do the math but it’s obvious that . . .
Brick, a literary journal
Brick
PO Box 609, Stn P
Toronto, ON M5S 2Y4
Canada
Works of art are of an infinite loneliness and with nothing to be so little reached as with criticism. Only love can grasp and hold and fairly judge them. — Rainer Maria Rilke