Back Porch Blues

The train whistled and then pulled out of the station, its engine turning, slowly, but speeding up as it headed out of town carrying grain and cattle and likely a few tramps climbed in between them.

His wife was going on about something, but he just kept that old chair rocking along the porch, half listening and thinking about how he was going to tell her he lost his job, and how he was going to feed the three of them now.

He heard the far off whistle blow once more, as the train hit the bridge over the river.

 

Prompt courtesy of Velvet Verbosity. Bonus companion piece.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Back Porch Blues

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s