The old man hissed his epithets through gritted, rotting teeth
Fuming in red and orange over the gurgling ugliness trapped inside
Confined under the mask of humanity that had formed through years
Of careful preparation. He fooled even himself.
No one could out-scream him, out-rant him, out-anything
Louder the voice and redder the face and under his feet was nothing.
He dared not look down, stayed facing outward so all could hear him roar.
Far below him, curled into a corner
A girl lay weeping wet tears onto black cobblestones
While the wind lifted the tatters of her hair from her face.
She heard a far off thunder
Shuddered, turned her face away, and fell asleep.