On the Stoop

I walked down the interior stairs and pushed open the front door. You were right about breakfast, but by early afternoon the appetite changes. I sat down on the second step of the stone stoop, letting my boots dangle over the edge. The neighbor's iron railing was cool to the touch. A paper bag from the deli down the block rested beside me, holding half a sub wrapped tight in deli paper. I rested my elbows on my knees and watched people pass on the sidewalk, content to stay still for a while.