I gasped and spun away from him. I did not want the flag but I couldn't throw it away. The music blared in unbearable discord. A group of girls laughed at me, I thought. Through glazed eyes, I looked at the tweed colored mountains. 38 TURNABOUT Adria Fowler He stood there On the dust-cracked earth that circled his shack On the corner. His shabby coveralls were patched And dirt-caked. His left hand Banged a chipped and tarnished hammer on a slat of wood Across a crack in the dingy plaster wall. The noise was loud. Then he stopped. I passed him. His black eyes glittered after me across his face. I touched the sleeve of my cashmere sweater and felt out of place In his world. I had passed Him now, but chills from knowing his black eyes followed were running Through me and making goose-bumps on my arms. I would not go slumming Any more. 39