“After our mother passed away, it’s just me.” He forced a tired smile. “Good evening, sir.
He hurried back through the rain. From the window, I watched her reach an old rusty Mustang under the streetlight. The engine doesn’t start. Then he lowered his forehead to the wheel, and when his shoulders began to tremble, I knew this was not just a bad night.
It was a hard life.
I picked up my keys, but before I got to it, the engine finally caught. He wiped his face, escaped too quickly and disappeared in the rain.
I stood there with cold food in my hand and twenty years of memories in my chest.
