For some reason I couldn’t get this story out of my head today. As a result, a rare Reblog from something I wrote back during the blogger days!
It was always on the corner of Los Angeles Ave and First St, right by Lenny Dykstra’s Car Wash. At least that is how I remember the starting line. We’d crawl up from the back seat and watch the red light, just past my Dad’s mustache, flicker across the intersection from our over-sized van. I want to think that he pushed the accelerator just a little bit, to get the anticipation where it should be, right before he counted.
“One,” he would say with a short pause. I’d lick my lips and think, there is no way. I’d look at my brother, and his wrinkled brow would say, “I know dude, no way.”
“Two,” he would say and draw out the ooh, like oooh you are in trouble. I’d check out the car next to us to see if they were counting, too. They weren’t, but only because they didn’t know magic. All they…
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Categories: Creative Writing
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