Friday, February 14, 2014

And You'll Find Me Where the Bottle Landed

I never claimed the South, but the South claimed me. It had a good riff to go with the raff.

I emptied my wallet and put $15 on pump 4. The attendant didn't care where I was going, but still asked.

It was Valentine's Day, after all. I had a date. Not one worth sharing. It came in a bottle and didn't cost much.

But I had a preference. Not one I made clear.

I had very little interest in telling anyone, much less the lady in question.

I couldn't bring her down with this (relation)ship.

Not without notice. Not without a warning.

So I drove off. Off into the uncertainty. One day I'd tell her. One day too soon, one day too late. Did it matter? It was a losing bet. One where the underdog covers the spread, the favorite plays dead.

So I drove off. I ran on fumes until I hit Hughes, Arkansas.

There wasn't shit there that I didn't bring.

And I didn't bring good shit.

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