I’ve spent the last few days on a random road trip (details to come later this week; suffice it to say I can barely see out of one eye right now and Canadian immigration does NOT like my travel style), so to celebrate my wanderings this week’s excerpt comes from “Riding the Rails,” a fun story I wrote a while back about a hobo named Georgie talking to himself while trying to hop aboard a freight train to make it to the big hobo powwow (full story at Hobo Camp Review).
He closed his eyes, wiped his hands on his dirt-stained jeans. The coupling rods squealed and groaned in protest as the train rumbled across the track. “C’mon, Georgie, you can do this. Count to three and go.” Another breath, still bouncing on his heels. “One, two, three.”
He opened his eyes. He hadn’t moved.
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