Aidan Hallston was a quiet man i noticed him he stood out from the rowdy boisterous crowd my father kept in his garage on Saturday nights the wind and birds at time would say that Aidan had lost his family to the bottle without a ship i spoke to him from a distance and with time that distance began to heal Aidan’s dialect was through ratchets and wrenches and i was an eager student the days went by and i grew bored but Aidan Hallston stayed among the foreignary of LA so far from his own home now that i’m old at night i think what could have happened to him and i smile at his gesture of love when i tried to smoke his Lucky Strikes and he said “they’re no good fer ya’ lass”
Brilliantly written. The sudden stop/change of pace at the end capped it perfectly. 💜🌼
LikeLike
I very much enjoyed your story.
LikeLiked by 1 person
thanks so much for reading and visiting, msjadeli 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Brilliant piece!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is a wonderful piece.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Linda 💓
LikeLiked by 1 person