Poppa. It’s a 6.

May I suggest clicking “Play” on vid below prior to reading, for enhanced reading pleasure…  

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Poppa laid his favorite book down, his weary head upon the pillow, (boy said) “Doc’s orders, ya got to do this Pop, ya know he’s the best in Amarillo.”

Orders for what he thought without remorse, it was his life to live, his to not, a simple matter of course.

Family and friends had come to visit, stopping in they’d say “been so long since we saw you last, thought it high time we came by for the day.”

She had never failed to hear him, never failed to stand beside him, marriage sealed in friendship, they saw each other through thick and thin. 

Plowshare to his coulter, would be her to see him through, cutting a final furrow in earth’s diminishing field, the last thing to do.

Poppa’s head lay still upon the pillow, book marked, set carefully aside; lying there beside him, she held his hand and cried.

Still water. It’s a 6.

Night sky black, moon slice through leafed branches brown, sparkle dots light the way
Journey set in motion, path illuminated, remnants of day

Carry them silent, boot crunch debris, storm unintended, two voices
Echoes ricochet, all what is what is taken what is left, two choices

Momma said be careful, still water don’t bend, hard pan don’t give
Walk straight your own path, if you want to live

The Road Untaken. It’s a 6.

But it’s not my dream, that was just it. How many times, how many examples, how many well intentioned comments over the years, the digital billboard flashing inside his head, reinforcing the misnomer; the thumbnail image exploded to full size. Asking oneself a rhetorical question is the first sign something’s wrong; he chuckled at the irony.

What possibly could be the catalyst, after all the foregone “this is it!’s filling the screenplay logbook that was most of his adult life? Was he ready to acknowledge the burden of carrying around the trappings of the once life, the might have been, the could be, because bottom line, none of it mattered.

He’d used no road map, no GPS, simply packed a bag, filled the car, hit the highway and drove, for days, for weeks until he saw the flashing light 50′ in the air, the approaching billboard partially lit, “Welcome to He……………..”