Randall Windle

Common Muck

Dust was kicked up from the pavement with each of her steps. It lingered sun-streaked in the air for a quarter of a millisecond then settled back, only to be stepped on by the heels of old gold and white sneakers. Mara Gemme, for all she was worth, didn’t notice. Despite the Chicago sun, many sour feelings from the day were still on her mind. She grimaced in the heat.