Monday, August 27, 2012

Boots


He pulled the makings out of  his breast pocket and started rolling a cigarette without breaking eye contact. His hair wasn’t so much grey as it was without color. He said, “Son…”

So, I stopped listening. I pulled my knife out and started an ambling whittle. When I started listening again, he was talking about shoes.

“…the kind of shoes you could wear wet or dry. Boots. The best pair I ever had. By a long sight. So, it wasn’t no joke when he took ‘em. You take a man’s boots and that’s one thing. Bad enough, I reckon. But he knew about those boots. And he just off and took ‘em.”

I had a very sharp stick by now. The evening sounds were a broken facsimile of a bootleg orchestra. I pulled a Camel from my pocket and stared into the sharp fire while he lit it with a kitchen match. I tipped the clear jug bottle and goddamn but I dare you to find a man who won’t cringe. I hit it again while my throat was numb.

“You fuckin’ kids. Do you even get what I’m saying to you?”

“Yessir. You really liked them boots.”

10 comments:

  1. Another new story. My week finally starts! :)Different than many of your other stories, but uniquely wonderful and poignant.

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  2. Thanks Jo...I was sitting in front of the bait shop tonight and this one arrived. I even wrote it long hand!

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  3. That bait shop is providing you with many a story, isn't it? Must be quite an evocative environment. Did you hear the wind in the leaves tonight?

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  4. Nope, no wind. And the bait shop is pretty special.

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    1. One day, I expect to see a photo of the place.

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    2. I was just thinking I should send you a pic.

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  5. Well, JD, you've gone and hooked me, brought me in like a great bloated fish. Now that I follow your blog, you break into my concentration too damn often.

    Yep, I like this one too. A lot. Maybe it's youth vs. old age, or potent memory vs. the numbing present, or maybe a lot more besides. Yep, I like it.

    This one brings my dad back a little too well. And me too, back then, when I still had a chance to connect with him. Gotta go think about him a little. See ya later.

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    1. Thanks Erin! You leave the best comments ever. Yeah, that was how I felt about the piece, too. I was just sitting in front of the bait shop and the story came up. It seems shallow, but I think it is one of the most potent things I have ever written. Maybe that's inside my head (and yours). But I'l take it. ;)

      Cheers.

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