She never listened to anyone, including her till death do us part dear friend Romo, who packed his 77 brown Nova and left for the sweet air confines of Northern Maine to escape her gripping disease.
It had been one time too many, something she wouldn’t understand, no matter how many times he told her, until she helplessly woke the following morning.
Photo: Edward Roads
Written by Edward Roads
Ignorance and obdurate indifference are just a couple of the pungent ingredients that mix together in this simmering crock of inconsiderate stew.
Are we not better than this?
Photo: Edward Roads
Written by Edward Roads
During the battering storm, Anna and Sadie were playing, truthfully tossing, a 99 cent Wal-Mart ball back and forth on a small splotch of saturated lawn in front of their parents coastal home.
A quarter of a mile beyond the splash zone, an old wood-stapled pub opened on time with a below average drummer setting up his cymbals on a small smoke-beaten stage.
Photo: Michael Roads
Written by Edward Roads
In this night’s nightmare, buffalos were roaming and the sky was glowing and the upside down made every unfortunate sunrise sideways.
The cramped room, which none of us wanted, was hot and without atmosphere, and that made the lack of water even more intolerable than the last sip of last night’s cheap whiskey.
Photo: Edward Roads
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 