Small Town Life
part 3

Henry Abrams


That Massey woman just drove by. I wonder what she’s thinking sometimes when she drives by. She looks so deep in contemplation. She went to school down there at the state university and I know they fill your head full of all that art and history and such nonsense. She’s probably lost in thought about which stock she’s gonna trade at lunchtime or what a waste that biology class was, something she’ll ever get to use in real life.

I would have loved to have gone to school, but Ethel needed me and I had to do what was right. A whole hell of a lot of good doing what’s right has proved to be, though. My wife is in the church cemetery and I’m spending my retirement alone drinking OJ and reading about other people’s lives in this stupid paper.

There’s Mrs. Henderson and that stupid dog of hers. Somebody is gonna run that damn thing over and when they do I don’t know what she’ll do. Buster – she should have named him Target, especially the way these teenagers drive down through here in the mornings headed to school hopped up on goofy glue and crack cocaine. Back in my day that would have never happened. We had respect on the road, for animals and for our bodies. Those days are gone now, though.

Good morning to you, too, Mrs. Henderson. Yes it is a beautiful morning.

That’s right, stay on your side of the street.  I’m glad I figured out how to keep her at bay. As long as I’m out here with no shirt on she’ll stay on here side of the street. She’d damned near talked my ear off before I figured that out, though. I get a little chilly on mornings like this, but it is worth it not to have to listen to details about every bowel movement she’s had this month. Some people will drive you crazy with their health problems. I manage to keep that information between me and the good doc and I get along just fine.

part 1 – part 2