About five minutes out of the door I decided that instant breakfast and a multivitamin just was not going to do. My stomach started to churn as I thought about a Ham Italian sandwich, I remembered the simple joy of siting at the pier and eating one with my father, the sandwich was calling me to embrace memories that had long since buried themselves under daily stress.
As I was standing in the line I got mad at all the people standing between me and my simple pleasure of the past. When the sandwich had done all it promised, I realized that the people in front of me where probably looking for that same feeling. They were all of the age that it would be most likely that their fathers would take them to the convenience store and sit down in some area he felt the most peaceful, just staring out into the sky; turning to laugh at them when they got a drip of oil on their shirt. Some may not even know why the sandwich makes them feel warm inside, as though they belonged and were loved.
-NK
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
"turning to laugh at them when they got a drip of oil on their shirt"
Nicely observed/remembered detail. The kind of item that allows the reader to conjure up a man, a child, a scene.
Post a Comment