His room had not changed since high school. The Atlanta Falcons sheets on the single bed. The Yardbirds family tree poster, the poster of Butch & Sundance guns drawn & charging.
His mother said that it smelled like teenagers.
And…
“Swut they call a catch 22, I reckon,” Harry said to the attractive doctor who was currently taking his blood pressure in response to why he still drank so much. “Booze got me on the street. But it also makes…
Read moreA plastic, crinkling cacophony spilled into the little girl’s ears. Her eyes darted to the sound, a blue and white plastic bag moving on its own. Jerky, unrhythmic dashes beside a line of plastic trash cans on the alley behind…
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He was talking to his father on speaker. Casual catch up conversation, the current goings on.
“Tell him what happened at the Publix today, Bob,” he heard his mother say in the background.
“What happened in Publix?”
“Oh, nothing really…