I walked toward the door, my steps leaving evidence of my passingin the dirt that half covered, half revealed the concrete below, and a bell heralded my arrival as I stepped in the door. I paused, my eyes adjusting to the dim lights, and u noticed the eyes that stared at me, looking me up and down, and I grinned as I thought wryly, you aint from around here are Ya? I was from around here, I thought, amused, and proceeded into the store which boasted four clocks on the wall, a rural world clock, I surmised. One for Houston, New Orleans, Slidell, and Birmingham, and each of these displayed the same time, in the event, I guessed, should there be any confusion concerning these metropolitan time zones. There were a multitude of camo hats and steel toe work boots, and I knew these people, having grown up in an area almost exactly like this. As I grabbed an apple juice, feeling the stares I seemed to illicit, I marveled that judgement was a funny thing, recalling the dirt roads I travelled as a child, the chill wind during deer season, and the smell of oil in my fathers auto parts store.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Dec 2014 18:06:09 +0000
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