It’s a wild ride from sun up to sun down.
I don’t where to begin this story. So I’ll start where I think you’ll enjoy it the most.
My brother, the recently divorced, alcoholic, with rotted teeth, and a receding hairline, rented a Dodge Viper. Classy, I know. Our mission was Las Vegas. I’ve never been, he has, on his second and third honeymoon.
I was hesitant at first. Never really digging the slots or a game of black jack, but I accepted through guilt, after his recent bout of depression, how could I say no? Here I was, in a Dodge Viper, with my oldest brother, smoking a blunt on the highway, just outside Vegas in the scorching heat of Nevada. He still drove like he did in High school. Like a maniac. I would grab the handle above the passenger door. I think he enjoyed watching my face tense, when we would pass a semi. It didn’t take long for him to open up about Stephanie. She was a young girl, too young for him. She had three kids to a prior man, who by chance, was a trucker. They had been married in March and separated in August. It finalized earlier this year and it was short lived.
I felt bad. My brother was a hard worker; he loved his job at the local plant. His main weakness was for desperate woman who were willing. She baited him like a fish. He bought her a house, put in a new deck, and added a room for the kids — all this in a matter of three months. When he was done, came the fighting. I guess he was out of something to do. He expected attention from her. She didn’t realize how needy he could be. I’ve heard him on the phone. I know.
This weekend will be good for him. It will be good for the both of us.
To get away and meet new people. Because that’s what life is about — the people.
(Sometimes I write short fictional stories with no ending in sight)
Always be writing.