“You better keep on running Watse.”, Cassian yelled and kept his arm extended, with his fingers stretched out the point they started cracking, ready to lift his friend up into one of the empty wagon of the freight train.
Watse was panting and wheezing, sweat was making dark markings on his clothes.
His bare feet were slapping on the pebbles next to the train tracks, he extended his arm and jumped.
And in that moment of flight, he thought about the life he had lived, the one that got him to where he was right now, that made him try to hop onto this train to the next town.
Being dropped as a baby, his first black eye, girls, rebelling against his parents, more girls, joyriding with his friends in Mrs. Baker’s car, getting busted at the drive-in, two years in juvie, getting kicked out of his parents house, sleeping his first night in an abandoned church, drinks with his street buddies, more drinks, getting kicked out of every place he tried to sleep, moving from town to town in search of new spots to eat-drink-sleep.
Cassian broke his thoughts, “Yo! Climb the fu—k in, I can’t keep holding on like this.”, He yelled.
Wastse’s eyes popped open and he noticed he was dragging through the pebbles and was hanging onto Cassian’s arm, who was looking at him with a in sweat covered exhausted expression.
He climbed up his friends arm and they fell into the empty dark train wagon, lying on their back they both were fatigued and huffing like two old dogs that just ran a lap around the racetrack.
There hearts kept on pounding like two ADHD drummers in a marching band.
“Thanks.”, Watse said in between his heavy breathing.
Cassian cleared his voice and coughed a couple of times before he could reply with a simple, “Your welcome.”
Their legs dangled over the edge of the open door of the wagon that contained only a couple of crates marked with ‘fragile’.
Lying there they looked up at the clouds and clear empty blue sky, “Want a beer?” Cassian asked his friend.
“Off course!” Watse shouts as he moves his body into a more upright position.
The rattling of the beer bottles in Cassian’s duffel bag was muted by the train grinding the rails below them, and they spend most of the trip throwing empty beer bottles at road signs, until their hearts suddenly stopped and they were nothing more than two dead bums in a rusty train wagon.
Watse was panting and wheezing, sweat was making dark markings on his clothes.
His bare feet were slapping on the pebbles next to the train tracks, he extended his arm and jumped.
And in that moment of flight, he thought about the life he had lived, the one that got him to where he was right now, that made him try to hop onto this train to the next town.
Being dropped as a baby, his first black eye, girls, rebelling against his parents, more girls, joyriding with his friends in Mrs. Baker’s car, getting busted at the drive-in, two years in juvie, getting kicked out of his parents house, sleeping his first night in an abandoned church, drinks with his street buddies, more drinks, getting kicked out of every place he tried to sleep, moving from town to town in search of new spots to eat-drink-sleep.
Cassian broke his thoughts, “Yo! Climb the fu—k in, I can’t keep holding on like this.”, He yelled.
Wastse’s eyes popped open and he noticed he was dragging through the pebbles and was hanging onto Cassian’s arm, who was looking at him with a in sweat covered exhausted expression.
He climbed up his friends arm and they fell into the empty dark train wagon, lying on their back they both were fatigued and huffing like two old dogs that just ran a lap around the racetrack.
There hearts kept on pounding like two ADHD drummers in a marching band.
“Thanks.”, Watse said in between his heavy breathing.
Cassian cleared his voice and coughed a couple of times before he could reply with a simple, “Your welcome.”
Their legs dangled over the edge of the open door of the wagon that contained only a couple of crates marked with ‘fragile’.
Lying there they looked up at the clouds and clear empty blue sky, “Want a beer?” Cassian asked his friend.
“Off course!” Watse shouts as he moves his body into a more upright position.
The rattling of the beer bottles in Cassian’s duffel bag was muted by the train grinding the rails below them, and they spend most of the trip throwing empty beer bottles at road signs, until their hearts suddenly stopped and they were nothing more than two dead bums in a rusty train wagon.
