Who Was That?

Couldn’t quite make out her face, although I’d seen it several times before. A soft face, with brown eyes and a rounded nose. She had ruddy cheeks and her chin was like a cushion. Still couldn’t make her out.

Was she from church? Maybe the pastor’s daughter. Thought I saw her on the front row one day. Listening to her daddy preach. He was talking about all the sins we commit. How as humans we are bound for error. I left about midway through. Before the offering.

I might’ve ran into her at the bar on a Saturday night. Maybe I danced with her. No. I think I’d remember that. Was that her in the corner drinking shots of tequila? Speaking Spanish in a drunken tone? Laughing with the others? I wondered.

And now she sits in a pickup at a red-light. Singing along to some song. Her thick lips move, but, there’s no sound. The windows are down.

She drives through town and I decide to follow her. She takes the main street out to 30. Then I see her waving goodbye in the mirror. Just waving.

Her truck sped up. She was gone.

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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