A Ticket Against the Glare

I walked from the red mailbox down toward the steel tram shelter along the road. A discarded paper tram ticket fluttered on the concrete curb, pinned under a rusted bolt. I stood completely still on the dusty curb, letting the quiet breeze settle. The overhead canopy cast a diagonal band of shade right across the asphalt. The paper caught a sudden draft, lifting by a corner. In one sudden, snapping stride, I lunged forward and trapped the thick card flat against the sun-baked concrete! It yielded with a dry, sharp crunch under my palm, soaking through with trapped pavement heat! -basher