The Movies and the Factories

“Any of this look familiar?” she asked.

The truck drove past spindly pines, branches bowed with that morning’s heavy snow. They were on their way to the train station, heading home from home, he supposed, feeling somehow like he belonged in neither. It had been years and he wondered if he shouldn’t have come sooner, or not at all. Things people said, or didn’t say or meant to say, or shouted instead of saying bounced around as the truck made its way down the two lane highway.

“You really not recognize any of this?” she asked again.

“No,” he answered.

Advertisements

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