waitin’ for supper time…

he’d sit out on a guard rail and watch cars go by…hours of watchin’ old Chevys…Fords…rusted out pickup trucks…polished SUV’s zoomin’ westbound on old 24 while the kid just sat there…hands in pockets…bitin’ his lower lip…

occasionally semis would drive by…the young boy would pull-down on his imaginary horn…truckers would respond…he’d laugh and pull the air down again…a horn blowin’ sound amongst evenin’ cicadas…whippoorwills…geese in a pond…dogs barkin’ in the background…

and at times there was nothin’ there…nothin’ would roll-by…chuckin’ rocks ‘cross the yellow lines…skippin’ stones on hot asphalt that’d just been laid…talkin’ to himself ’bout bein’ some kinda hero when he grows up…an Army man…a Marine…just somethin’ that’d get him outta this town…somethin’…

or maybe one day just take off down the road and never come back…travel from city to city…livin’ off odd jobs like his daddy done…never knew him…heard stories…heard he was crazy and couldn’t accept responsibility…never wanted to pay a price…these tales were told…

he’d take off someday…go out and look for pop…heard he might be out West ropin’ cattle…some ranch-hand in Texas…ridin’ horses all day long and into evenin’…eatin’ beans and drinkin’ beer by firelight…he heard that…heard that…

but for now he’d watch cars go by and imagine…just imagine…keepin’ an eye on his watch for supper time…just waitin’ for supper time…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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