Saturday, August 16, 2014

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Happy I am this is not my town.

There’s an early morning vehicle that goes from some where in the village to a house. The vehicle makes a turn liike it is going on the highway, but makes a turn that takes it into a circular drive and, like some things, it use to make a stop in that drive while hidden from view of the majority of the village.

It then finishes the circle drive and re-enters the village and drifts on about it’s business.

Now the lady that lives in the house in the center of the circle is a widow and is seventy-eight years old.

The vehicle that makes the pilgrimage is eighty-one.

The time frame Ii’m speaking of is four-thirty to five thirty in the mornings.

I suppose it is true that seniors need less sleep.

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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