Midnight Road
The strange object loomed above them. “I wonder what that is,” Fontaine
said. But he didn’t really
care. It was silly to dwell on
such things.
“See
those wires?” Mary pointed. “I heard they used to carry some kind
of power.” She slapped a
pair of patched jeans against a rock.
“My
grandmother says that, but she’s nuts.”
Mary
nodded. “Crazy as a full moon in
June.”
“Nutty
as a nut tree.”
Fontaine
threw the last of the wet clothes into his basket and got to his feet. “My grandmother refused to go through
the mental cleansing.” There, he’d
finally voiced his family shame.
“My
mother says it’s vulgar to cling to memories.” Mary stood and picked up her basket. “A cleanse a day keeps the sorrow
away.”
The sun rises in the East. All children turn toward the sun. Fontaine turned. “A cleanse in time saves a mind.”
The
darkening sky reminded them of the impending loss of light. Side by side they hurried home, their
shadows stretching and shrinking, bending and folding across the midnight road.
Clearly we're getting old.
ReplyDeleteTime doesn't fly. It tends to slither.
At least we had a good time.
Yep. I think of those as the good ol' days.
ReplyDeleteTheresa