With a reminiscent clack, (I say reminiscent, because "clack" is the sound my gears make now.) the cue ball hits the racked bright yellow one. With the semi-recent ban on smoking indoors, pool halls aren't like they are in the movies. I've done my time at our hall of preference, and am a little disappointed that no one has smashed their bottle and come at me with it. There isn't a trough in the boys' bathroom. I reckon my imagination will have to be enough.
Our place is furnished with pew benches. Some like to joke that god is on their side when they make a great shot, or at least I like to think that they do. Then, I think a lot of things, it would seem, that aren't real. I reckon my imagination is tricky like that. I can have a brawl in my head for my own amusement so long as I'll let myself be lead on. If that is the trade off, I don't mind.
After the pool hall is the other diner again. This time I notice the pictures of trains on the wall, and smile softly to myself. Some friends are finally home from school, and they dine with us. I hate how you can never find the jelly that you want. Then, maybe that's for show, a quirk for my companions to remember me by some day. I'm not scared of being forgotten, just human. The trains didn't sing tonight, but that's all right. They've stopped for the purpose of moving in the future, I hope.
Regards,
Caleb
P.S. bats in the belfry - eccentric, insane
P.P.S The last two days these posts have come the night after the day in which they occurred. I plan on righting this as soon as I get into a groove with this stuff. Pictures, too, shall be at the end of every post, having been taken, just not uploaded. This too will be righted.
No comments:
Post a Comment