 Scene One – August 1960
“Why would your dad give you his Studebaker?” My high school pal Dave says. We share a common interest in automobiles so I’m not surprised by his question. “Is the car okay?”
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 Bingo
A Boston Bulldog pulls right, then left against a taught leash in lower Manhattan. He searches for non-existent grass or bare earth on which to find relief. Soon, he drops his excrement on the sidewalk. A man at the other end of the leash bends to clean the walk while the dog scratches unyielding concrete in a futile attempt to cover his spoil. The man yanks the leash. “That’s enough of that, Bingo. We have to move on.”  Scene One – School ball diamond – April 27, 1957
“Dickey, are you crying?” “No, Coach.” “You sure look sad sitting alone on a sunny day. Something wrong?” My chin bumps my chest. “No, nothing’s wrong.”  Wednesday April 5, 1950
“You’re going to do what?” “You heard me. Why do you always pretend that you don’t hear me?” “I just can’t believe you’re man enough to meet him. That’s all. I mean, where were you for the last six months? I left clues about what was going on. Why do you want to meet him now? Is meeting him your ego thing? Do you want to feel that you’re better than Tom? Well, you’re not. That’s why I’m leaving you.”  Monday
“Oh, sorry,” I said. My tortoise-frame glasses flew from my nose into a volcano of papers that erupted from his arms as our shoulders collided. “Oh it’s you,” Dr. Spencer snarled. He kneeled to gather his belongings. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” |
About the Author
Richard Wilberg is a creativity coach, musician, photographer, and former business leader who lives in Madison, Wisconsin.
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