#picadillyinc

“Drama In and Out of the Lab” Write the Story, PicadillyInc

microbiologist, telephone, hidden, bystander, trench, inside, international, shoe, heights, persuade

“A Family Mystery Uncovered” Write the Story, PicaddilyInc

Sunday, secret, wallpaper, swap, sister, curiousity, island, notebook, marathon, demand

“A Strange Request at a Piano Bar” Write the Story, PicadillyInc

carnival, sprained, mask, oxidation, awkward, apple, juvenile, controversy, twirl, sassafras.

It was snack time at the Adult day care. You would think the elderly would be more docile, easier to manage than toddlers. You would be wrong. The trouble started, as it always did, with Mr.Stanley and his inability to understand Fiber One bars. 

“What’s its purpose?” Mr. Stanley grumbled. 

“It’s food. Just a snack I thought you might like.” This is the third time I told him it was “just a snack” and the fourth time I've had to retrieve his bar from wherever he threw it. 

“Well,” He paused and sucked on his dentures, “What did I do to earn this?”

I laughed, “ It’s just a healthy snack that everyone is eating. You don’t have to earn it.” 

“I’m not eating it.”

“Why not?” I sighed, “Everyone else is enjoying their snacks.” 

At that, Mr. Stanley was angry, I’m not like everyone else.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.” I smiled. “ What makes you different?”

Mr. Stanley thought for a moment, his eyes scanning the other residents. “All of these people are old.”

I readied myself to give my usual response when the residence have forgotten their age, when Mr. Stanley added, “And fat.”

Pausing, I looked at him and then burst into laughter. Mr. Stanley was by far our largest resident. 

I finished laughing and realized, Mr. Stanley was chuckling with me. He said, “Probably because they keep eating all of these snacks.”

“You know what,” I said, opening the bar myself, “You’re probably right.” I took a bite and Mr. Stanley said, “Good, you eat that. You deserve it. Unlike all these fat people.” 

It was that fleeting hour of day when the moon and sun are high and bright at the same time. Like many things in my life, these summer nights wouldn’t last much longer. I sat quietly on a grind box at the skatepark. Quarantine meant the park was still closed but that didn’t stop me. Honestly, I don’t know why anyone would use a padlock when they know that bolt cutters exist. 

I was down to my last cigarette and I knew I should go but I was really hoping we would get caught. Just wanna see the vein pop out on Super Cops neck. I swear that guy has nothing better to do then harass us. 

All the usual guys were here. We’ve all been here since we were kids and now we try to impart our wisdom on the younger guys. Whether it’s telling them to quit skipping school, “or you’ll end up like me”, or just smacking cigarettes out of their mouths cause they’re too young for that shit.  

Thought about riding down to the store and grabbing a soda and maybe more cigs, but the skies getting dark and everyone will be heading home soon.

 I took my last drag before putting out my cigarette, making one last loop around the park, hit the flat rail and yelled to the guys. This was a poor excuse for an opening day party. We usually did it up a lot harder. We didn’t really have a choice, we weren’t supposed to be here. 

I rode to the park instead of driving. Letting that familiar kick push take me back home. My board creaked a little under me. I really need a new one. 

My knees ached, ankle throbbed and back cracked. I don’t know when I became one of those old guys at the skatepark. Growing old is inevitable, but that doesn’t mean you’re ever ready. 

As long as I can still skate, I'm not old. You only really feel it at the beginning of the summer. When you’re still stiff from the winter and haven’t had time to get used to it again. Or when you fall and you feel it a little harder than you used to.