On the Run
“It was two o’clock on Tuesday afternoon. He drove slowly east in the big yellow convertible with the top down, through a tunnel of elm trees, the car radio loud. He wore big dark glasses, and he looked at the tall frame houses of earlier times. A dead place, he thought. A hick operation. The big action is bingo in the church basement.
The Brower place was the one with the iron fence across the front. He turned into the driveway and stopped by the side, near the walk. He turned the car off and got out and stared at the house, feeling disappointed. The yard was in good shape, but the house needed work. It looked as if you could shake it and carved pieces would fall off. The ride up had blown away the last symptoms of mild hangover, but he still felt depressed. Big deal, to inherit the old barn. Who’d buy anything this far from anyplace? If the old bastard had any real money, he wouldn’t live like this. He shrugged and divided his minimum expectation by ten. So even ten grand wouldn’t be... a total loss.MoreLess
The Brower place was the one with the iron fence across the front. He turned into the driveway and stopped by the side, near the walk. He turned the car off and got out and stared at the house, feeling disappointed. The yard was in good shape, but the house needed work. It looked as if you could shake it and carved pieces would fall off. The ride up had blown away the last symptoms of mild hangover, but he still felt depressed. Big deal, to inherit the old barn. Who’d buy anything this far from anyplace? If the old bastard had any real money, he wouldn’t live like this. He shrugged and divided his minimum expectation by ten. So even ten grand wouldn’t be... a total loss.MoreLess
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