The content of the letter is nothing new. Steve's read several of these, filing them a way in an old shoe box, left empty from the time he put on a pair of Mary Jane's, with ankle straps, and walked all the way from Dallas to Phoenix, not noticing the dust beneath his steps, just the wide open spaces and the freedom of the Old West. Now, even the wide open spaces feel heavy, and the air presses on Steve's spine like a setting sun. The letter reads the same as all the ones that came before it:
Dear Steve,
It's hard to find the words to describe what you did for me. I can breathe again, and I'm thankful for that. I wish you the best, but I just can't stay. Sometimes, the gift of your heart is just too much.
Sincerely,
Shaq
Steve reads the letter one last time and then places it in the shoe box, between the one Shawn Marion wrote in crayon wax and the one Mike D'Antoni wrote in the erratic scrawl of a physician. There is no time to dwell on the past or think about all those who came and went, like suitcases, on and off trains, passing through hotel rooms, from one city to the next. Tomorrow is here, and baby Amare can be heard in the other room, crying from hunger.
4 comments:
gold, pure gold. these are freakin' awesome.
September 21, 2009 at 10:04 AMI love these, man.
September 21, 2009 at 1:54 PMI like to imagine Steve reading those letters with this song on repeat.
September 21, 2009 at 6:58 PMIf Phoenix gets a Boyz II Men song, then does that mean Golden St gets an All 4 One song?
September 21, 2009 at 10:42 PMPost a Comment