Wanderlust

It has been a beautifully warm day as I stood down at the shopping center talking with Rosa a few hours ago. I hadn’t seen her in a few days and was growing worried about her. I was glad to hear she had just been busy with some family issues she has been trying to iron out.

“It looks like it might rain,” Rosa said as she looked towards the cloud filled sky as we both stood leaned up against the wall down from the dollar store.

“It’s not going to rain,” I replied. “We have high pressure over us.”

“Did you hear about George’s car?”

“I was the one who diagnosed the problem for George,” I replied. "His engine is completely locked up."

Rosa then wrapped her arms around my arm and put her head upon my shoulder. I blushed from the affectionate attention. It actually made me feel kind of uncomfortable.

“You haven’t got a cigarette, do you?” Rosa asked, looking up at my face as she held me close.

I reached into my backpack as I smiled to bring out my extra pack of little cigars.

“It’s not very ladylike to smoke cigars,” I said, giving her a hard time as I handed her the pack. “I see why you are being so nice. You want a smoke.”

Rosa laughed and elbowed me in the ribs jest-fully.

“I don’t give a shit what other people think,” She told me, which has been obvious these past few months we have grown to know each other.

I then left Rosa, glad she was ok, to walk down to the train tracks to watch a passing freight. I longed to hop aboard one of those hopper cars and embark upon a journey towards Atlanta.

When I was a child, I and my friends would hop slow freights down at the rail yard and ride them miles away and then jump off behind the grocery store to walk back home. Those were such simple times then when I didn’t understand the kind of danger I was placing myself in. These days you would get arrested for doing that. Still, the child in me wanted to hop that freight and journey off into the unknown.