The smell of cut grass washes over cracked sidewalks. Nobody pays attention as he passes by, ever. Or they might have once. Sometimes they still did. Sometimes they fooled you. He had grown up ordinary with ordinary looks. Normal mousy hair and normal brown eyes. He can't even be called a nerd, he doesn't fit in with loners - he is that ordinary. Sometimes he likes words and sometimes he doesn't like words. Sometimes words are tricks. He never changes them though, every word on every class paper, every fleeting thought. They are ordinary and at some point a long time ago he decided that he too would be ordinary.
When Nathaniel was younger he had friends, the result of being a nonthreatening spoke in various wheels. In time, his friends found things that defined them, that in turn defined other hubs. They moved in orbits and sub-orbits. He slipped away. Sometimes he listens to insects, the relentless buzzing of cicadas. The sidewalk smells like warm earth and wet grass. It is uneven and and houses pass as he walks by. It smells like an ordinary day. He is walking down the street to the community college. Sometimes he likes being inside his car but sometimes he doesn't. He has a backpack. He has entered the words he needs to enter for his classes. He hasn't changed them. His cellphone predicts torrential rain, that's okay. He lives in Iowa.

1994 Olds Cutlass Ciera. V6, chilly air, 189K miles, runs sweet, torn headliner, burns some oil, needs brakes & tires. Awesome pioneer cassette/AM/FM. This could be yours for $1400.

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