read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

June 29, 2009
No there ain't no rest for the wicked, money don't grow on trees.
"You moved down there by yourself?" Ben asked, lighting another Newport with the one he just smoked.
He started pacing.
"Catch you later." He said after only taking a few puffs.
"Later."
Standoffish. Back inside, alone with my thoughts, observing customers. The plywood and lumber on fire under the florescent lighting. Pricing. The phone rang again from the front end.
"Did you see a woman walk in with sinks?" She asked, frantically.

"No."

Pause.

"Ok, thanks."
Counting the drawer, then filling the coolers with soda, sports drinks. Ocean city girl is fading.