The parking lot was empty, but that was nothing unusual at six in the morning. Justin rolled up and parked on the far edge of the gravel lot, letting out a yawn. He'd stayed up a little late studying, but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity his father was finally providing. Besides, it was a welcome distraction from the lack of sex resulting from dumping his cheating girlfriend a couple weeks earlier.
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"Why don't you and Clancy go fishing," my dad said.
The five of us, Uncle Ted, Aunt Bessie, Clancy, dad and me were finishing our afternoon tea in the farmhouse kitchen after unloading the fourth load of hay for the day. The new corrugated iron shed was a quarter full of hay and that was all there was room for. The rest was taken up with the farm machinery. The few horses dad still kept were in the old split log barn, which had seen better days.
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"Silas's Choice."
"Say what?" Rocky Hansan asked.
"Silas's Choice," I repeated. "You are offering me the same options you offered Silas Collins three years ago. Did you realize that?"
"Of course not," the chief of the Near East Division said. "Farthest thing from our minds."
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I woke up around three thirty in the morning with a raging piss hard-on. Since at the present time I live alone there was nothing to do with it but head for the bathroom. At my age, a hard-on of any kind is a terrible thing to waste.
Also at my age, waking up this early is always a problem as it's hard to get back to sleep. I tried to go back to bed and sleep but it wasn't happening, so I got back up and made a pot of coffee.
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I think I just might be the best peach picker in Virginia. Well, in Rockingham County at least. And that isn't just me boasting. That's what Brother Jeb said all the time I was picking peaches for him. And Mr. Howell said that to me too. More than once he said that. I've heard both men say that, in the peach business, it's getting the first fruit of the season to market before anyone else does that can mean the difference between a good season and a break-even or bad season.
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This is a story about my wife and me before we were actually married. It was a summer night and we were getting ready to go out on the town with some friends to a local bar for a few drinks and some good food. My wife Katherine (girlfriend at the time) decided to wear a short summer dress as it was very hot that night and she wanted to be comfortable. What she didn't tell me until later that evening is that she also did not wear any panties under her dress to keep herself "even cooler".
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I looked out from our patio above the trees at the end of the garden and saw that the clouds were gathering fairly quickly. Thick purple towers were rapidly developing in the north and I predicted that a real good rain would be hitting the house soon. It would come as a relief since the morning had been uncomfortably hot and a good storm would always bring a welcome cool to our house.
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I hate camping; I think that it is the stupidest thing ever. Why would people want to go out into the wilderness and with no bathroom, no shower, and no electricity? But despite that my Dad would insist once a year that he and I went out to this obscure little clearing in the woods which wasn't even a real campsite. We would go out pitch a tent; eat fish that he caught in the lake, and sleep on the cold hard ground.
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The late afternoon sun shines strongly, casting long shadows on the ground. I search through the crowd, looking for my friends amid the mass of people standing, staring towards the stage. Where I am is still some way from the band currently playing, with only the tallest able to get a decent view. So everyone is mostly stood like near-inanimate zombies, their only movements are the odd step to the side, or a tilting of their heads as they seek that perfect view of a few guys playing guitars and drums.
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He was just posed there, his feet on the ground, half sitting in the seat swing in the overgrown abandoned playground at the back of the elementary school. I had walked over here on a whim to cool down from the sharp retort I had unexpectedly made to my mother at the lunch table. This after her third badly cloaked jab on why I hadn't married yet and given her grandchildren.
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