Flowers at the café


‘Thanks for nothing Ike.’ Betty sighed and looked out the window for the last time and lit a candle on the table.

At 86 she had served her time and millions of customers at the roadside café now positioned 2 miles from the shiny new interstate.

She’d voted for Eisenhower in the 50’s, believing in his vision for the future.

Betty didn’t bother locking the door as it closed behind her, looked both ways along the empty road, got in her Olds and drove away, her insurance papers on the passenger seat.

Any minute now, gas and flame would meet…

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1 Response to Flowers at the café

  1. MrBinks says:

    Rebel. Rebel.

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