The man’s head protruded from the gutter and remained there, quietly taking in the world. The missing grill allowed him to pop up, but no further than his neck.
What a strange perspective to be at eye level with passing cars wheels, ear level with the slap of shoes on tarmac so close behind. A thin trickle of oily water dribbled down by his chin and he breathed in the tainted air.
Across the street, a coffee shop waiter did a double take before turning away at the call of a customer.
A throaty bus crawled by and the head descended below ground, thoughtful. What a view on the grubby sole of the world you could get looking up from the gutter.
This story was inspired by mis-reading a writing prompt from Nancy Stohlman which said:
“Write a story about or featuring a body part. (Heads out of the gutters, people,
there are other body parts!)”
At first glance, I took “heads out of the gutters” as an example. It stuck.