Topic: or this
I knew where I was going. Fear, well it wasn’t part of the equation. I sat at that creek side enjoying the time allotted to me. Enjoying the sight of each trickle and ripple of ambient water. I sat soothed by the sound of the breeze and robins singing. I sat until I was ready and then against the screams in my mind I stood. The sky turned red and the air smelled of burnt flesh. A hole opened by the stream and I descended into it. Not much is worth damnation but killing Frank Cole and his sons, well, they sure As hell were.
Frank he was a bastard, through and through. Was he evil incarnate? Nope. But actions speak louder than words and what he and his kin did… well let’s go back to that muggy summers day.
I remember sitting on the south bank of Ford pond. I remember the mud under my feet and the sun lit grass under hers. Mariah sure was beautiful before the accident.
Before the accident, before the accident that had to be the summer of 93. I remember that day at the lake. It was the first time I had seen Frank he was scrawny but muscular. Not a bit of fat and wirery, reminded me of Iggy.
He was young then, baby faced. He stood there on the side of the pond shirtless skipping stones. His entourage of goons frolicking behind him. He was a boy then just as I was but those black eyes were aware of far more years than they had seen. The proof was in his buddies most of which were a bit older and taller than him but it was clear who the leader was. I avoided eye contact as we walked back to my car but I could feel his black eyes on us. But when I looked back I was mistaken, they weren’t on us they were firmly on Mariah.
Back home we relaxed at the little flat we rented. She played coy to the attention from frank. I was still worked up. I still contemplated if I was her one true, if I had a choice in the matter. If I could win her love, in my mind physically, it was my age. She kissed me and pulled me into the shower quelling all my insecurities. Mariah was mine, that afternoon I knew it. For how long, well that’s always the question, isn’t it.
Sometimes the weather turns a bit cruel.
We aged without getting old. You know, It was that time just before thirty. I sure as hell felt old though and time began its rapid acceleration. I will admit I still wasn’t a man yet. I remember sitting down town outside a coffee shop about that time. Not a frap venue but the inpendentley owned kind of place you could watch a local band on the weekends. My friends and I sat there under a warm summer’s night. I remember looking up at the few stars in the sky listening to the town’s gossip and vaguely interested in the news of franks escapades. I hadn’t seen him in years but mention of his name still held my attention. With that said I gave not a fuck about frank then and there, it was a good summer.
More to come
Last edited by swollenguy (2012-08-24 02:28:28)