Supply Run


               Farimount Rd. runs out to the city cemetery.  It also has the new building supply place.  He had just been there for the first time to pick up a new toilet-seat and a couple of screen stoppers for the kitchen sinks.  Turning onto Grand Ave., he stopped at a light behind a pickup truck with a lift-gate and a snack machine in the back.  It was freshly filled with chips and candy in bags.  On the glass front of the machine is a blue strip of masking tape reading “Memorial Hospital, fill ASAP.”

                The vending machine turns right on Bishop Blvd.  His brain is getting old, Larry St., Dean St., it could see the bigger picture.  Dean and Linda, but the mind was forgetting how to breathe, Hall and Janet, or how to make the heart beat, State St.

About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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