Joseph P Garland (@JPGarlandAuthor) flew the highest this week and takes his second win!
Check out his story below and congratulate him on Twitter.
Congrats on your #SwiftFicFriday win @JPGarlandAuthor! Check out his flash piece and show him some love #writingcommunityTweet
If I had a nickel for every time I saw him out on that bench, looking over the river. He was either watching the water rush by or across at the boats bobbing in the marina across the way, I never knew. Well, if I had a nickel, I wouldn’t be rich, but I could probably get a goodly number of bottles of a nice cabernet sauvignon.
It was a lot.
Usually at about five in the summertime and maybe three in the winter, seeing as the sun set earlier in the winter. Just sat there, he did.
I reckoned his mind was going somewhere. Boats. Rushing water. He sure was going somewhere.
A nice enough kid, and I knew him from when his daddy would bring him by the garage when there was something or another wrong with the Toyota they had back then. His daddy knew nothing about cars. Not even how to change the oil. He was nice enough, though, as his boy turned out to be when we chatted.
Course his daddy died on that infamous day and that Toyota sat in the train station parking lot for a while til someone had the courage to take it away. Put it in a quiet spot until his wife was ready. It started a little later, his coming down to the river. I watched him from the garage. Always the eleventh of the month. Except when he went to Yale. But if was home and it was the eleventh, yeah, he was on that bench.
Even when his mom moved away, he was on that bench.
Finally, I asked him. Down at that bench. He stared out. “When I sit here, I sometimes believe It never was and never will be.”