. untogether .

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Deviation Actions

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:bulletgreen:   California, The killer wave by alierturk :bulletblue: Flying Into the Fog by LeashaAHooker :bulletblack:



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. untogether .


North again, the hitch hadn't been harsh; I'd gotten my clothes and my shoes on around the corner and the first driver had been a nice Hispanic chica and she'd gotten me over to the 101. She was from the Valley of Death and so we chatted about her family and how they were suffering under the effects of the current president's reign; she a born here member but they unaffiliated with the rules.  I thanked her in the sun along the entrance ramp and caught a trucker making the rest of a run to just outside my part of the bay. "No problem young lady, I need th' company to keep me awake, jus endin' a week of long runs from Dallas Fort Worth." He was sixty he said, "Name's Bob Andrews … ", and now unable to retire, between union cutbacks on the pension and the way prices had gone blue sky he figured he'd be working another ten.  His face was side tanned and his hands roasted brown and liver spotted up to the buttoned wrist. He'd turned and looked at me when I'd pulled myself up into the front and he had that behind-the-wheel look where half the face is sad sagged and creased and the other younger, but not by much.

The rig latched and lurched forward and he worked the shift lever smooth and fast. "There's Band-Aids in th' glove box there in front of ya; and bottled water in th' fridge behind yer seat." "Thanks Bob." Bob chattered but I found it soothing, a sort of counterpoint to the swish of the rubber on asphalt waterfalls and the regular passing blur of mile posts and traffic on the 101. He never asked a question of me, never said "What's a girl like you … or who beat ya?" "Got three kids, one's made it through college that's Austin, other son's Bob junior, he's a mechanic in Sacremento; and then there's Janie" and Bob senior went quiet for a while. My head was in pain and I could feel the swelling on the side; I held the bottle from the fridge against it and rolled the forgiving thin cold sweating plastic carefully along the brow and bruised cheek. "My Janie well she went off th' tracks bout eight years ago; always was th' wild thing, youngest, smartest, tested her mom's faith every day." I felt the headache getting harder "Bob do you have any Advil?" "Yep sure do, right there in that glovebox." Opening the box again I saw the white childproof bottle, fetched it out, broke a nail getting it open and shook three into my hand. "She went missing, big fight and she was out th' door. Found out later she was doin' meth and well, that was all she wrote." My head's about to explode and I gulp the little smooth brown pills down with a splash from the bottle. I feel a missionary coming on and I've been fucked too often in that position.

Bob's silent for a long time, paying attention to the curves and traffic on the 101 and my mind is far north and then back south and the iPhone isn't shaking or chiming or letting me know anything. I'm seeing wide hazel eyes and blonde hair and the short cut fatigued shorts and the three tops and the tooth brush, oh fuck I want to brush. "Looked for her for a while, cops, calls around to folk I know, family up in Utah, th' Carolinas; nothing heard of her. Her mom's put some web thing up, pictures, letters, questions. Lena, m' wife, changed that day. She was a smile'r fore that; a tempest at times but loved ta laugh." Bob is steady as a rock, no drift in the lane, speed constant and at the limit; using the slopes as gravity wells and momentum to gain on the next rise. I'm in fog city now in my mind; reliving months, playing sound tracks over and over, a little drowsy. Her nose in different lighting, the arch and turn in a shoulder, the hands; all in jumps and cuts and edits and in no sequence but all making sense in subtle ways now. '… look at the gaps girl, look at what was left out, look at the promises not made …' Bob took up his life scenario again, small vacation place up by some lake in Oregon, planning on retiring there but now put out for vacation rentals; winter hunting there, moose and rabbit, weather in different parts of his life "Love th' winters, th' two weeks up there, hunting an' th' cleared skies and snow. Junior and his wife an' kids up there with us; it's a hoot I tell ya those little-uns." Bob droned on until we got around the freight docks where he dropped me off. "You be careful now little girl," and I could see him seeing Janie in front of him as I jumped down from the cab "it's a mighty big world now." I waved my thanks and wished him well and the rig clenched and rocked and pulled off in diesel smoke.  The sun was orange through his fumes and I started my walk '… call me damn it, please call …'



© Amanda 2013 2.26.2013
Images: "The killer wave" by :iconalierturk: © 2012
"Flying Into the Fog" by :iconleashaahooker: © 2009




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for Megan, Sophie, BiBi
Published:
© 2013 - 2021 Amanda-Graham
Comments7
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NBrownPhotography's avatar
the first youtube video isn't there anymore
Amanda-Graham's avatar
Edit: final added some missing quote marks 2.26.2013 6:00:00 PST
KissTheSunrise's avatar
Helen certainly is an adventurer. :pills:
Sacremento/Sacramento/Excremento lol
[link]
Amanda-Graham's avatar
The company and I would like to take this moment
In expressions momentous flourishing our gratitude
Young Mistress’s amusement our sole point sans
Platitudes existential; intentions and motivations
Repertoire’s masquerade enactments cascade in motions
Emmêlement, progression dessous émotions dissimulant.


Merci Mademoiselle.

un poème minuscule, consacré à la révélée par la particule lié
© Amanda 2013 2.26.2013
Amanda-Graham's avatar
Thankyou my Doll :hug:
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