Thursday, July 21, 2005

beginnings of

Writing
831 words

"There was a cloud of dust in its trail as the green ’38 Chevy sped up the long bumpy road. The potholes in the road caused by Summer rains threw Tom’s body into spasmodic jerks as the vehicle plowed and rattled towards the Roberson's home. He slowed down as he approached the heavily shaded blue house and parked his car in the usual place adjacent to the shed. Tom reached over to the passenger seat and picked up the half empty bottle of gin just purchased from a bootlegger named Toe-Joe an hour before this dreadful journey began. He unscrewed the bottle and the smell from the alcohol rushed into his nostrils and caused him to frown. Tom cradled the back of his head with his left palm and closed his eyes as he guzzled the remnants of the gin. The liquor burned his throat as it went down into his empty stomach. “I have to do this,” he exclaimed as he open the car door...."

No comments:

Ready for a New Season

It's after 10:00 p.m. on a Wednesday night and I'm thinking about seasons. I'm thinking about the natural progressions of natur...