Full moon that watches over city streets, sitting pretty through the branches of leafless trees. A beer gets poured from a tap and comes down the side of the glass in glistening amber liquid. The white, foaming head forms like a breath of gratitude. The glass is cold, the taste is crisp, and the patron awaits it impatiently. He is a pessimist; Not the “glass half full type”.
Thanksgiving dinner comes in like a sucker punch; So much food gleams from the dining room table as the turkey is brought out glistening in fat and oil and spices. I eat myself sick of potatoes and green beens and stuffing and fresh cranberry sauce. It’s all I can do to keep my eyes open at the end of the night, watching the football game in a catatonic state from the couch.
He’s a liar full of shit. Pathologically never can tell the truth, as though it might kill him. His tall tales and stories – I remember them all. I could never trust him. He is not loyal. It is almost amusing to watch if the issue weren’t so serious.
A full gas tank awaits as I begin my road trip. The sun is shining and the road is open and free. It is a spring day with no humidity. I breathe in fresh mountain air.