I hope one day I see her again, prancing in heaven.
She must have sounded horrified because he said, “Now who would have thought you’d find that more abhorrent than sleeping with me?”
I drove Maxine’s car and commented on what a nice ride it had and asked her what year it was. She said “Oh, I don’t know. 1957?” We chuckled at that. (It’s a 1998 Oldsmobile 88 with under 50,000 miles on it.)
I’m back in Sarcoxie. Again. Ugh. Chief Sarcoxie Days is a celebration, but of what? Obesity? Poverty? Hopelessness? Am I just used to everything new and bright and shiny so that here all I see is faded paint, burnt out lights and desperation? Maybe the worn out carnival is a…