I was out for a walk today. At one point, I decided to cut through a field near our house. In the summer time, this area is a lush field of alfalfa swaying in the wind in shimmering shades of emerald and jade. This time of year, it’s more a hard packed meadow of rocks and brambles strewn here and there with litter and debris.
It was the varying garbage that caught my eye this morning, not that there was so much of it, more just I began to wonder about the people who had discarded the various items.
There were the two empty vodka bottles, recently tossed I figured because their labels were still whole, colorful and shining. Who had felt the need to empty those bottles? Were they trying to escape from something? Were they trying to find something? How much anger was tossed away with those fifths? A sense of despair and melancholy disguised as indifference and bravado.
Not far away was an empty can of soup right next to a torn wrapper of pop tarts. Could that have been thrown off from somebody’s “dump run”? Or was that somebody’s only meal of that day?
Further on was the crumpled page of a newspaper—the want-ads with three different mechanics jobs circled. Did they get one of those jobs? Or was this hopeful employee one of the partakers of one of those bottles I found earlier, as yet another manager said, “Ya know son, if it was up to me . . . “
How many stories had I actually passed this morning? Or, maybe it was just junk.
Hey!! Check out a few chapters of this new fiction piece I’m writing and tell me what you think!
ReFoRMation (a work of fiction)