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Mar. 25, 2010 It was the level warm night, and it was still early, in the beginning hours of what the spacious dark could bring. The metropolises lightly toy and sometimes fight with the rural quietude, and bring electric lights and grand sprawling theatres and theatrics among other things. It’s an often tense relationship made moreso because in a strange way both sides do want and need what the other has, or aspects of what the other has. If as they say people are friends in places then places are friends in places, and adversaries too. But nobody thinks of all that in the magic asphalt way by the movie house, and especially not the teenagers that were there. It was the busiest section of the parking lot and fifteen of them were lined up, side by side, sitting down, asked to sit down on the curb, while two cars of cops searched through all their belongings. The police were not bullying, and the youth were not the typical hated youth that one can often think of- shameless- unpredictable- coarse. Instead they were eclectic, calm- slightly on the artistic side- about two thirds male and one third female, and they were all friends, which was the cool part- a solid group, only out to have a good time- but someone had alerted the man and knapsacks were all out in front of the students of the night- various bottles of liquor were there, and the faces of the curb sitters were not worried, defiant, or startled- it was more like a bit of a hassle- and they were dressed in corduroys, denim, some of the girls with smart cloth hats holding their hair up, and some of the males with long hair too, dirty blonde, light brown, and the footwear was neither cheap or expensive, but practical and streetwise. The whole affair in front of the theatre house night was only what it had to be, which was a routine that happens in the way of things. Beyond were the stars, and the crescent moon, and far under them coyotes walked, with matted hair, hungry, not understanding the world, only walking somewhere, somewhere by wheat fields or little rivers with rocks and maybe light foam or a chemical gloss over from the industrial strength world that was fast encroaching. ------------ About the Author: For more of Brian's short stories, visit his website: http://www.freewebs.com/storyandstory/. Email Brian Barbeito: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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