Abandoned

2017-03-08-13-41-20

I’ve been out riding my motorcycle, now I’m on my way to arrive at my favorite diner for lunch, it’s where I like to go. Afterwards I’ll have dessert somewhere, maybe some ice cream. I have just passed an abandoned old school building. I get a fleeting glance. Oh wow, this looks so spooky, as with everything though, one glance paints a thousand images to one’s imagination. There are numerous horror stories just waiting to be written here.

What do you see while out riding along these byways, of the many rural roads you’ll take, places you will pass while you’re out riding along this vast countryside on a motorcycle?

There are many sights, all full of things. I noticed this abandoned school, a sign that reads,

‘Private Property Keep Out’. It gave me chills and in broad daylight!

Amid the delight, learning as children do, playing in the school yard, my imaginations say something terrible has happened here. And this is why it is now abandoned.

Maybe there is a horror story here, like the two students who attended school, they threw eggs at the local skating rink of the time era. This school looked to be active in the 1940’s now it’s abandoned.

I remember the story: A man took his gun and shot at the two fleeing pranksters, who after throwing eggs were trying to make a clean getaway. One was shot dead by the man. The man went to prison where he eventually hung himself. True story!

Going up, I stopped along the way for a break. I was trying to think of how that my dad had once said, “You won’t get vittles this good anywhere.” I would soon be at my favotite diner for lunch, I could almost taste the food, especially the fried chicken. Maybe he was content with the occasion. It was on these occasions that we had experienced good food, real home cooked meals. He often said this at the family reunions. He was a foot soldier in a war I’ll never have to experience. Why would he tell me, a child, this story about food, there at this place and only to me?

He had said it this way because he would never speak of the atrocities of man or what he had witnessed, ever!

I was quickly brought back to the present when I heard a woman crying out, she was hurrying up to leave, she had shouted, “Baby, Baby!”

Had her child been kidnapped? It was the anxiety in her voice, like a scene in a horror story. Yes, this was so scary and too, in broad daylight. This horror story or ‘would be horror story’ played out in my mind.

What would one do if they had witnessed a kidnapping?

Do we have days when we get ran over by nightmarish and hellish thoughts, and why this happens is anyone’s guess.

“Good Afternoon. l will have my dessert now, a Pecan Pie, and this will be out from one of those cellophane packets you know, the ones you buy at the convenience stores. I’ll get mine from a gas station, eating it while standing up beside my motorcycle parked outside. Thank you.”

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