Tuesday, August 2, 2016

"Where's Grandpa?"

He waits by the interstate sitting in a lawn chair flapping his gums talking to himself incoherently while rolling his cane across his lap. His knees are shaking with impatience as he watches the 60 mile an hour traffic roar past him. His straw hat blocks the sun from his beet red face, his charred dark skin however gives little contrast to his mocha colored sunglasses and brown blazer. "It's a good thing I wore this suit today, its gonna be a hot one.." He mutters to himself while continuing to move in his chair. A semi blares it's horn going by making him jump in his chair with his cane waving all over. He gives out a high pitched yelp.

His unsettled hand reaches into a cooler beside him and pulls out a Yoo-hoo. While taking it out, a few more cars blast their horns speeding past him. He jumps again making the drink spill over himself, "...they going too fast, umhmm." He says to himself as he attempts to drink the Yoo-hoo again. A swarm of sirens zoom down the interstate this time making him spew his drink out into the air. He starts to shout nonsense at the busy freeway as he gets out of his chair, knocking it over without the help of his cane. His shouts are drowned out by the speeding traffic. "I told you for the last time that you are going too fast!!!"

As he moves over the highway barrier, his hat flies off from the wind of the traffic. Several tires screech and trucks with their trailers slide laterally to avoid the crazy old man who is now in the middle of the interstate. His hands with his cane are waving in the air while shouting for them to slow down. "Old man get out of the road!" A driver shouts at him. "You're gonna get killed!" Another calls out diverting to the left of him slowly. "There are children playing here, SLOW IT DOWN!" The old man cries out manically. "Ain't no kids here grandpa!" A trucker shouts down at him and continues forward.

Many car horns go off at this time as the old man throws his cane at one of the car's windshield. "Easy old man!" A traffic chopper flies in overhead, swerving around the scene. "And that goes for you too! Keep it down! People are trying to sleep!" The old man curses at the helicopter above. "Its rush hour in the middle of the day, what are you doing?" Another disgruntled driver shouts at him. "C'mon! Get outta the way!" A series of state troopers are seen from the distance weaving in and out of the stopped traffic. "That's not for me!" The old man shouts as he clumsily runs back to the shoulder without his cane, followed by a couple of failed side jump attempts over the divider, and finally passing his knocked over chair and through the bushes to hide. The trooper pulls to the side shoulder only to get out and ask, "Where's grandpa?"

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