The sparseness of City Park frustrated Jack. This passes for nature in the city, he thought. A patch of grass with playground equipment.
A white car belched black smoke as it chugged slowly past. He coughed as the car pulled around to park beside another, much nicer, car. Tinted windows rolled down.
Something shiny lay in that direction. It was mirror-like, but didn’t reflect. The grass in the frame swayed as he looked into it. Jack reached through, plucked grass from the other side and smelled the freshness he longed for.
The Johnson’s checked out early Sunday morning to return home in preparation for the week ahead.
“What a weekend,” Ronny yawned to his wife as he unlocked the door and swung it open. The stench hit them full in the face.
“What the…,” Fran exclaimed peering over Ronny’s shoulder. She couldn’t believe her eyes as Lil Ron lay passed out on the couch amid a mess of bottles, overflowing ash trays, and was that vomit on her new carpet!
Ronny took it all in before stomping over to his son. “Wake up boy,” he shook him roughly, “The party’s over.”
Aunt Mabel was the best healer ever. She was constantly mixing things, whatever it was that grew in her garden on her table that wasn’t really a table at all. It was more of stuff stacked on stuff, but it was her table and her most prized possession.
Whenever we would get a cut or scrape, she would grind away, rub her concoction on the wound, and in no time, we would be right again.
Maybe that’s why I’ve come back here at the end, looking for some of that old magic.