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Created on: September 29, 2010 Last Updated: October 21, 2010
Sneakers
“It should be a nice morning, don’t you think?” The woman called in the moonlight. The red maple leaves rustled, some lazily falling to the ground. Through the foliage I could see her straw hat as she attempted to push her way back into the yard. It had a faded daisy stuck in the band up front. She does silly things like that, poking her head through bushes and sticking flowers in her hat-band, looking around surreptitiously with a toothy grin to see if anyone is admiring her whimsical antics. If they notice, she stops smiling immediately.
“It will be cool, my weather, Mrs. Thompson. ” I replied, mildly annoyed at her return. I don’t like my early mornings disturbed -the time just before sunrise, that is. I read the morning paper if I can find it. The paperboy throws it into the yard from his bicycle, it is a challenge to locate it in the dark at times. Last week I found it up in the maple bush, and the next day it was in the wheelbarrow full of muddy rain water.
“Throw the newspaper on the porch, will you, boy?” I yelled at him in the dark the next couple of mornings. He didn’t pay attention other than most rudely showing me a finger in the moonlight. The last time, he parked, balancing, with his dirty white sneaker up on the fence.
“Collection day. You’re up early, Mr. Jason. The moon is still out.”
“I’m a night person, that’s how I saw you throw the paper in the wheelbarrow. It was full of rain water .”
He shrugged. “It’s Hallowe’en today, sorry, whadd’ya gonna do, kill me?” He asked, smirking – collection day, and you owe me three dollars and a quarter”.
“It’s always collection day isn’t it? - my paper was ruined, and about killing you, you never can tell, I am tempted” I said, giving him the coins. He gave me the finger again and pushed off.
I dislike disrespectful paper carriers. “You never can tell...” I said again
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Short stories: Sneakers