Search Results for: marc watson

It was my favorite place in the world. The old well was now ringed by overgrown flowers and weeds. A stream weaved between trees, while a willow beyond the clearing whispered with the breeze. A cicada rhythmically chirped, implying the day would be hot, but for now it was comfortable.

A clearing held the abandoned pool, cracked and empty, surrounded by rotting boardwalk and chipped cement. My grandfather walked slowly beside me; his cigar smoke ever-present. Beside the pool were chairs where he used to quietly sit. In all the decades he tended this place, I never once saw him swim.

He hurriedly approached the old man on the porch of the decrepit shack, and his eyes met those of the elderly nuisance.

“You’re still here,” he said, pointedly. “I thought I had made the situation clear. This place is going down, with or without you in it.”

The elder’s eyes gleamed at the upstart. “You don’t hear ‘no’ often, do you?”

“Never.”

“Well, I’m glad I taught you something new.”

Annoyed, the man rounded the corner and indicated the bulldozers to continue. His drivers were oblivious, and no one else knew the old man was here. Progress waits for no one.