Dad drove on down the street after a long week driving truck. He pulled up in front of the the little white house, walked up the walk on Ash Ave., like he ususally did and after reaching the front door he thought something was very different. Jiggling the doorknob, and using his key, which was useless, he realized eating and “shooting the bull” with a neighbor wasn’t going to happen, until he could find his wife, furniture and everything else he didn’t see in the little white house on Ash Ave.
From one tree to the next, his new home was on Elm St.
He found this out from his former neighbors the Hagermans.
No bull was shot that night.
I loved the way he told this story, the pauses were all in the right places and he kept the right moments at a heightened suspense. One can only imagine what it was like when he drove to his new address, the conversation that ensued was a future story.
It was priceless
beat that MC
…..the life of bustersdaughter…….
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