A.G.E's Joint

  The church hadn't changed much, perched over Highway 288 like a Monopoly piece.The white picket fence shone with its annual paint job. Portable gazebos donated by the local funeral home dotted the lawn, protecting the dinner on the grounds. The trays of potato salad and sliced ham protected from stray pine needles.  Memories of Homecoming past rushed forth. Stilted greetings, Praise the Lord's and too much food, all to draw the backsliders to the flock. Mom would give him a pill to keep him from getting sick on the road home to Atlanta before they left. But, the medicine never worked. Mountain twists caused cold sweat to issue out from the edges of his crew cut. Brother would make sure he moved from side to side until he would puke harder than a shook Coke can. The car would stop with two cussing parents holding paper sacks to his mouth and wet paper towels to his head. That was long ago. After Mom died, Dad didn't want to have anything to do with the church, moun...

Hotter than hell in the Dowager City and Armageddon was about to come from the heavens. The heat off the street was like flames of fire raging at his back . Just another summer, tourists braved the heat shopping on Market St. Everyone else decamped to Cashiers or Asheville. Him? She had made sure he didn’t have the money to leave. Adjusting his hat, the deluge came as he cleared the door. The Battery was only a few blocks away, which was a blessing in this heat. Small wet patches turned to steam almost as soon as the water hit. The mottled gray towers of Old First Scot’s were glowering down on his sinning ass like one of Satan’s angels. Was this absolution or condemnation? It didn’t matter, the old Calvinists elders wouldn’t be part of this ceremony. She was stuck again, trying to decide between Heaven and Hell. As it was, as it is, as it ever shall be, it seemed.  A group of black kids were singing an old spiritual out of tune, bad doo wop rather than tight har...

A lone cow stood placidly at the fence as the end of the day came. Smacking cud competed with the bullfrogs for the dominate sound. Bitter timothy hay mixed with sweet alfalfa, the mass shifted from front to back in her mouth. Every few minutes a bit of it would pass down her gullet and then back. In a repetitive motion that was controlled only by instinct she would dip her head to the ground for replacement. This was the way of her world.  It was much quieter in the pasture tonight. The old  Farmer had a get-together last night. Twangy sounds came from the farmhouse, high pitched voices that made her nervous. The men seemed to like them though, hooting and hollering.   Sweet smells came from the shed where they laid up the dead pigs. One of them must be getting burnt for some reason.  The men then laid up this huge ruckus. They brought out the fire spitting sticks and were taking turns pointing them at various things set up on an old oak stump. One woul...

"The enemy of society is the middle class." Said the father. "But the enemy of life is middle age." Said the son. As the BMW cruises through toward the tarmac. They had been at odds for a long time. Whatever the father demanded, he did the opposite out of spite. As they approached the airbase, Pvt. Charles Wilborn Jr. was taking his last shots at his old man. The brooding C-5 was to lift him from falsity. Away from the vegetarian draft dodger that had sired him. Away from the manicured lawn and preppy, phony school mates. This was his rebellion. And if he didn't come back, so be it. It was better than sitting around being jealous of the neighbors and wondering if the software release was successful. Jealousy is a disease of the weak. He was going to prove he was strong. "I can still stop this." "Fuck you and your money. I'm not your fortunate son." Exiting the car, he salutes the Lieutenant and lugged the duffel to his pla...

  The rain finally stopped. Several stray droplets land on the ragged man as he straightens the tail on his shirt. It’s another day in paradise. Geez, what a night. Asshole pissed all over his sign, so sidewalk cruising is out. The shelter kicked Mark out when he plowed the bastard’s fat face into the wall afterward. He couldn’t blame them. Rules are rules, you know. He snagged a cup of coffee as he left, so it wasn’t a complete loss. And he was still sober. Story of his life. Get a scheme set up working the saps willing to throw a dollar and some jerk screws it up for you.  The pole sounds like an alarm as the purse lands next to his head. A woman is screaming to prepare for his funeral. A bunny haired black girl sat on the wall watching. Maybe her daughter?   She was the only sane one. Crazy lady said Jesus wasn’t going to save the world, it was too far gone. That was a twist. Preachers mention repentance was the way out, but not this one. A bored ...