This blonde girl comes smiling up to the car window..
” Can I have some gas money?” She was beautiful.
Her story had holes, she wanted to know the distance to Knoxville and needed
cash, had her brother, a troubled youngster nodding in the cab, Hell , Mike
, I don’t think the pickup could MAKE it to Knoxville 100 mi away.
And it’s a cold day up on the plateau..
I bought her gas and gave her the rest of my cash, not much. Man she was
beautiful, it lit up my day just to look in her eyes, and her smile was
young and genuine, if a bit shopworn.
I hit on her and felt guilty about it.
Ya’ should of heard the metal grind when she turned the wheel on the beater
truck
” this isn’t my truck” she allowed. Yeah, well, good for her but who knows
where or what home is. And her poor brother didn’t have much to hang onto. I
hope they made Knoxville.
There’s a profound sadness that accompanies the road. It hangs around the
corners and reminds you of life’s frail nature just when ya’ think you got
it handled.
I wish I had more to give her, more without the sadness of home to plenty
and the sweet ennui of the dry middle class.
What the fuck was she doin’ so far out there? I mean MAN she was WAY out
there! I couldn’t imagine bein’ that …that.. I dunno
Do you know?
Don’t let your guard down. Don’t ever let your guard down.
I needa drink
Brian in powder springs
