The Price of Sugar.

Because of my job, I spend a lot of time standing outside of places...smoking, looking at the clock on my phone, smoking. Sometimes I catch conversations on the sidewalk...

"You seena price uh shuga'?"

The old man was wearing a straw fedora and a pair of square rim glasses that were so big they almost stuck out past the brim...his face was split by a beak. He leaned forward and spit over a huge jutting chin that was smooth and red as an apple...like it'd been blowed it up and polished. When he leaned back up there was an oily streak runnin' down the center of it. He pulled a stained handkerchief from his back pocket...

"Awmost ain't worf it."

His buddy weren't young but he was younger than the old man. He stood with his hands in his pockets....thumbs stuck out, rockin' back in forth on the balls of his feet. The old man gave the impression of a hawk on a pole...his buddy was jolly lookin'.

To get his hands in his pockets he had to bend his arms out around a gigantic, perfectly round belly. He looked like he was pregnant with an elephant. The last two buttons on his shirt probably hadn't been fastened for a decade. Every time he rocked forward I was sure he was goin' on his face.

His hair still had some blonde in it though and his eyes were clear blue. Of course they were buried behind bright red rubbery cheeks. He never said a word.

The old man stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket and slowly cracked a smile...

"Awwwmost."



White Lightnin', Mountain Dew...Moonshine.

To be continued...