T-Maxx and the kid

I pulled it out of the garage and it was working great. The wires were pissing me off until I realized I could pull them off. Duh. Now my T-Maxx was shredding it up. Sweet.

The other people were interested. The switches on the controller were so natural I couldn’t believe I didn’t understand. No matter. Just jury rig it and flip the switches. Burnt orange pinstripes on black rockers. Wait! What’s this switch? It’s ground effects lighting. Yo momma.

(it bugs me when people use “lightening” when they mean “lightning”)

Dusk approaches, pink sky at night, sailor’s delight.

Drew was riding the T-Maxx, screaming with glee. Glee, I tell you! But Drew just *had* to set up the ramp at the edge of the cliff. It was a long ramp with arrows that were power ups, a la Mario Kart. The kind that boosts your speed. The cul-de-sac had a tree-laden beauty and the view was spectacular. The view off the cliff. That Drew was headed for, riding my T-Maxx.

Then I was like, “Drew, what are you, retarded? Don’t set up a ramp on a cliff! You’ll kill your damned self!” He got off the T-Maxx, moping and eying his dad for some support, and I was happy because I didn’t really think it could handle his weight, anyway; secretly, that was my primary motivation.

I pray you don’t look at me; I pray I don’t look back.

The trees dangling overhead in the darkening light were starting to obscure the scene. The parked cars adopted an ominous stance. Under the tree, Gene told me his mom died last week. Then his dad died soon after. I tried to reach out for him but the branches obscured him and he faded into the distance. I struggled to reach him but he was always just outside of my grasp. I was a frantic Bjork in a dream running for the giant teddy bear.

You can have it all, my empire of dirt.