About End of the Line
by Sean Michael
69 pages / 17600 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-042-9, 1-60370-042-0
Available file types - lit, pdf, prc, html
Sam is a military vet with bad knees who's just about reached the end of the line as far as wandering is concerned. Thank goodness he meets Chance, an all around good old boy who needs someone to do the heavy lifting at his local feed store.
They hit it off from the start, and as Sam rents a room from Chance he gets to know him. And want him. Their relationship grows over a lot of fishing and hard work, and finding out about the vagaries of old, creaky knees and what it's like to have diabetes. And when these two get going? They find out they're not too old for all that sexy stuff after all. In fact, they're just old enough to realize that the end of the line can lead a man to the best place of all. Home.
Sample
Sam got off the bus, giving the driver a nod of thanks.
His duffle was heavy on his shoulder, reminding him he was tired and needed to stop for awhile, settle somewhere long enough to let his bones stop aching.
They'd told him in Bastrop that the feed store at the edge of town was hiring and the bus driver'd been good enough to give him a lift out for a fiver. Feed store. He figured that was about right -- lifting and hefting and moving shit. He could do that.
He crossed the road, a little bell going off as he opened the door. A bunch of guys looked over -- two old men playing checkers on a card table, a couple of folks at the counter and a tall, tall man looming over the till, eyes bright and blue, even in the half-light. "Howdy, stranger. What can I do you for?"
He gave the man a nod. "I was told you were hiring."
"Yessir. You got any experience on a farm or with critters?"
Did he what? "I meant the feed store."
The tall guy nodded. "Yeah, I hear you. I just didn't know if you were familiar with this shit, you know? We got a lot of folks moving in from Austin, looking at their critters as a tax break, don't know their asses from a bag of sweet feed. They tend to ask a lot of questions. Here's an application, go on and fill 'er out and we'll see what happens."
Well shit, he really didn't want to keep wandering on. He was getting too old for this homeless shit. He took the application form, said 'thank you' and took it out onto the stoop to fill it out.
Wasn't long before the tall guy wandered out, handed him a bottle of water. "Damned hot day. Name's Chance."
"Thanks, Chance. I'm Sam." He put the bottle on the ground and held out his hand. "Good to meet you."
"Pleased." Chance had a great grin, the corner of those eyes wrinkling right up. "You're not from around here, what on earth brings you to the Hill Country?"
"Looking for work somewhere warm enough my bones don't ache." No reason not to be honest. He just wanted to work. To be left alone.