#carterjohnsons

where: pitstop

life had been uncharacteristically quiet for the first time in months, just the way jude liked it. going about his daily life without the concern of someone else from his past would just drop by. the last one on the list had a large road block of a jail cell stopping him from getting anywhere near jude. the storm had passed, and calm had settled on his mind and body. with greasy stained hands he works on a carburetor of an older modal, a janky one at that. but he liked the challenge, no matter how long it took. as he reaches for his spanner the chime of the door bell rings through the room where the only sound was the tones of the local radio. "just a minute." jude calls over his shoulder, reaching out the rag to wipe down his hands.