Over the Tracks
Down Near the Woods
A young boy sees the train go by. It rattles the ground and the red twilight sky paints with great artistry. The train seems endless like his youthful life.
It grips his attention as the throttle of the passing cars shakes his whole body. Then it’s completely gone.
The silence of dusk gives the boy peace. But other sounds come to his ear as he follows shouts and loud grunts. He heads across the tracks looking down and finds three men down a hill. One is waving a gun in the other two’s faces screaming.
“Don’t tell me everything’s good! Where’s the money?”
“Easy, let’s not do anything rash,” the tall one pleads.
“Shut up! I’ll fuckin’ do it! I’ll do it!”
“No, you won’t,” the short fat guy says.
“Where is my money?”
“You’ll get it,” says the tall one.
“I won’t ask again.”
“Then you’ll never get it. Give us two days like I asked.”
“Don’t tell me when I’ll get it! I say when-”
Then the tall guy shoots him quickly. The one with the gun is dead. His brains are strewn across the grassy ground.
“Didn’t have to do that, Rick.”
