Most days, his wheels get in the way. A sidestep, a misstep, a quick, short, avoiding step. All because he takes no steps.
Today, others who travel lighter squint and shrivel away from the rain. They step over, under, around, anywhere but in the mass of water pooling in the way. They march with bulky boots. They hop and cringe, as the splash gets them anyway.
The puddle lingers.
Then I see him with his wheels, heading straight through the puddle. No sidestepping, no mis-stepping, no splash that could dare reach his triumphant, dangling feet. One determined finger on a lever on a chair that most days is his unwanted company, this day makes him king.
Yes. Today, he with the wheels roams free.
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