Frames of a Detachable Heart An Anthology by Dean Procopio Featuring "Frames of Life" by Donald Charles Miller Silver City By Dean Procopio It was somewhere around 2005. A post 9/11 society. In upstate, It was an odd place to be at the time. We were close enough to feel the ripple, But far enough to know we weren't in danger. It had been years, but the anxiety stayed. I was walking to the corner store. Papa’s cigarette money in hand. There were families With dirt on their face. Waving white signs in red lettering. I wasn’t a strong reader. God knows what they said, But the red in their faces Matched the bloody signs. I stared at them for a while. Much longer than what was polite. There was a young girl with them. 6 or 7. Around my age. She was one of the wealthy kids. Saw her in school. With rosy red cheeks. And golden strands on her head. An ocean of blue, Caught me Looking too long. I took haven In the corner store. Old man tony, Brow heavy and gut wide, Blew smoke across the counter. “Dean? Don send you here?” “Yes sir,” A Slide of camels, two scratch offs, A dry rasp of paper on glass. “Go ahead and grab yourself a candy bar, kid.” Thanks Tony!” “Now get on home, It aint safe out here” “Yes sir,” Out on the street. The blonde girl. “Dean?” “Yes.” Our voices were meek. Compared to the chanting Rhythmically. It still sounded like gibberish. One two three. One two three. One two three. One two four. So on and so forth. “Isn’t your grandfather the mayor? Everyone calls him Ver más