I have a couple of things to write about, but they both involve image uploading, and I’m too lazy/sick/grumpy to do that. So, I decided to look online for writing prompts for today’s blog post. Some of them are patently ridiculous, so of course, I decided to write on one of these topics. This is not a true story, but it came from my head.
Let’s Hear It for My Favorite Senior Citizen! a Story, by Christine Tarbet
His name was Bill, but we called him Bill the Old Man With a Beard Who Smelled Bad. We were kids known around town for being verbose.
We met him at the park. By “we,” I mean me and my imaginary friend Carole, who had a mole on her cheek and drove a Subaru. She was 16, an older girl. She didn’t mind that I wore a training bra; I didn’t mind that she had scoliosis. We just clicked.
Bill was sitting on a park bench feeding the squirrels. He had a little bit of bird poo on his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. That lack of hygiene was probably why he smelled bad.
I remembered the old saw “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” which wasn’t really old to me then, as I was 10. So, I sat down next to him.
“Whatcha doin’?” I asked, not really caring about the answer. I just needed to pass time until my mom picked me up.
“Feeding the squirrels, you twit,” he answered, drops of spittle flying from his lips, some of it landing in his unkempt facial hair.
Undeterred, I asked him what his name was. He told me it was Bill, and then he spent the next 5 minutes clearing his throat.
It was the first time that I realized I was mortal.