Waiting

The long evening drawing to a close, he stood watching.  From his vantage point he followed the sweep of the land to the ancient woodland, blending into blackish green.  Splashing  Sycamore leaves grabbed his attention as a plump Wood Pigeon flapped into the evening blue.  Up, straight up and stall as the undulating flight scribbled opaque words on the horizon.  Crazy bird.  Grunt, he turned towards the access road snaking the bottom of the grassy slope.  

                             It’s quiet tonight. 

The Lonely Cow

Go Baby Go!

He sniffed the air, straining through  bubbling swallow song for the faint sound of a distant engine. 

                                Not tonight, they’re not coming. 

He sighed deeply and lowered his head.  A gentle rustle in the high grass at the side of the hedgerow, the pleading eyes of his friend the Hare. 

                              Where are they?

                              I dont know.  

Strong feet bounced into shadow, alone again.  He closed his eyes, mood sinking, evening chorus deafened.  A distant rumble.   

                         They’re coming!  

Stomach tightened.

                         Go Baby! 

The roar of the exhaust, his skin prickled.

                         Hit it! 

Thump of the subwoofer, his  heart pounded.  

                       Yes!

Car horn piercing as the raised fist punched the sky.  

                      Rip it. 

He followed the glistening alloys into the night.

                   Until tomorrow.

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~ by boredwitless on May 25, 2010.

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