Waiting

He waited for a sign. Man said he’d be back. Said he’d come a second time. Gave the precise date. The very hour. Told him there were signs and symbols as to his arrival. Written on paper. In English.

The old man memorized the signs. He knew what to look for. He sat there on the front porch waiting. But, he never came. Just strong winds out of the west.

Thought he saw clouds forming. Felt like a twister was on its way. Could hear a freight train in the distance. It was getting closer. The book said nothing about a freight train. Or, strong winds.

After awhile the dark clouds parted and the sun came out. He poured another glass of tea and waited. Just waiting. He had nothing better to do.

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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