Silt

Everywhere he went, Larry left sand behind him.

It didn’t matter that he had never been to a beach.
Nor did it matter he never saw the desert. All across the office, the sidewalk and particularly his apartment Larry-shaped sandprints appeared, like the dotted line that follows Billy around in the Family Circus.

Old Jeb sat on the stoop watching Larry walk by. I asked him what was going on. For a song on my harmonica, told me.

Larry was settling, and like silt at a bottom of a mill pond, the sand was drifting to the floor. I thanked Old Jeb and continued on my merry way – content on having solved the mystery.

It just so happened on that day, I wore my nice white woolen suit to work. This was foolishness on my part as I was not used to wool and itched my way from nine to five. When I finally could stand it no longer, I found that Larry and I had something in common.

Guess I should probably spend more time on the beach.