My good friend David Stewart
invited me to write an essay on Friday Fictioneers, a weekly blog post with many participants. A photo is posted on rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com by Rochelle, its noble moderator, at 3:30am EST every Wednesday, and you pen an essay in 100 words or less of what it evokes in you. Not as easy as it sounds, but fun nonetheless.
I still see him behind a wheel of a jeep, a Winston dangling from his mouth…sleeves of a button-down carelessly rolled tucked in slacks over raw muscle.
Heartbreaker, brawler…bearing shrapnel from a long ago war. Medals face down forgotten in a drawer mixed with snapshots holding me, a Positano girl.
A weary beauty packing panini, prayer and long lusty legs draped around his neck…moist, determined.
They want you to fill up the holes, but you know better cause everything ends.
You were in it for the memories…how else could you stay sane living on the farm.