Angles and Corners

These boys are all skinny legs and large, awkward feet. You see the way they stand and listen to their coaches, and you see glimpses of the men they will become – in the angle of a hip; in the strength of their hands. You see the passage of time in an instant, and at the same time, look backward. Back and back to the days, not so very long ago, when their knuckles were chubby and their faces round. Now they are angles and sharp corners. They are eternally at the edge of something. They are waiting, waiting, waiting







i make squee noises when you tell me stuff.

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