The Street of Misfit Toys

by Her Bad Mother at Her Bad Mother
Posted July 9, 2007

There's an old man who spends a lot of time on our street. Across the street, actually, at house in which he does not live. He has a friend there, another elderly gentleman, the father of the fellow who actually owns the house. Last summer, they spent the entire summer, the two of them, on the verandah, old and gnarled and batshit crazy, singing loudly along to songs playing on their transistor AM radio, pausing in the choruses to drink coffee and beer and growl at each other like old, toothless pirates.

The second gentleman, the one who lives there, doesn't come out much anymore; he recently
spent some time in the hospital and now just sits at his window, looking out at the street,
watching the children and the squirrels and the birds. And his friend, the old man that comes to
visit.

The old man still comes every day. Read more...