Wheelbarrow Man
Temporarily an excerpt - then it will be edited to fit the format of the story below.
Wheelbarrow Man, the children chanted, stomping in mud as they pointed and shrieked. John would cast an eye at them and the children would stop, their excitement replaced with fear. They’d run, scattering in all directions, and he’d continue his walk, pushing the wheelbarrow with a fervor that only came with this humiliation and consequent rage.
The rain that night was the worst John had experienced since the flood. He overturned the wheelbarrow and sat under it, listening to the rattle of hard droplets on metal. He drowsed for some time before falling asleep, an utterly peaceful void before dreams of screaming children and animals massaged him awake.
Wheelbarrow Man, the children chanted, stomping in mud as they pointed and shrieked. John would cast an eye at them and the children would stop, their excitement replaced with fear. They’d run, scattering in all directions, and he’d continue his walk, pushing the wheelbarrow with a fervor that only came with this humiliation and consequent rage.
The rain that night was the worst John had experienced since the flood. He overturned the wheelbarrow and sat under it, listening to the rattle of hard droplets on metal. He drowsed for some time before falling asleep, an utterly peaceful void before dreams of screaming children and animals massaged him awake.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home