Life Is Very Good

(Please click on the title for a reading aloud by the author.)

He sits in the cab of his pickup. Cracks in the windshield catch and bend and break sunlight. He studies the glints, he enjoys the warmth. The cab smells of burned motor oil and dust. Moments pass. The door creaks and bucks in protest as he gets out. It takes a determined push to shut it.

The sayer of sooth wanders out onto the bridge, he smiles at the passing Romeos and Juliets. He is tall and lean. He is quiet. Six hundred fifty feet above the Rio Grande River, he stops and thinks, “Yeah man… this is out here.” Wind whips his hair. A cloud races by, it’s an awesome view. He sips and relishes the pure air.

His hands are chilled so he slides them into his pockets. “What’s this?” He pulls out the lump. “Whoa… how did this get here?” he wonders. Small bits of the parchment skin flutter and snap and blow away. He is hungry and happy to have the garlic. But garlic alone does not make a meal. “If I had some…”

A truck passes and the bridge shakes.

“Hey.” Raven hair shrouds her face, she pulls it back as best she can to look at him. The wind is persistent. “How’s it going?”

The sayer turns. “A friend,” he thinks. Showing her the garlic, “excellent,” he says.

“I got some Emmenthal,” she says. From a fold in her thick felt jacket she pulls and offers it. The jacket has silver buttons. The milky yellow chunk peers out through the wrapping paper, translucent with fat from the cheese. She smiles.

Forever starts here.

Gordon Bunker