A little freestyle writing. This scene of a man thinking about the father he never had came to mind.
“Piss in the wind if it makes you happy, Mack.” My father told me that everyday, chewing on a match, resembling a cowboy rebel, well, in my eyes he looked the part, anyway. But every cowboy has a grave site waiting on them. I always believed he went too early, but that’s one man’s opinion, and another man’s Did you hear about? I didn’t hear until long after I should’ve and even then I didn’t believe it. He was just on a long work week in my mind, and he was going to stay that way until I was 20 or so, because without proof, my father always said, you got nothing more than air in a slingshot. You got nothing! It wasn’t until 15 years of waiting for that old cowboy that I decided he either left me all alone, or he died. And to keep his legend honorable in my mind, I settled with the possibility that he galloped on a steel horse to the bye and bye.
It wasn’t until after coming to the fact that he was dead, I found that pissing in the wind is like making your coal mining father a cowboy. And telling everyone that he died a great man, when me and his wife, my mother, knew he was an abusive alcoholic and died one. Pissing in the wind only got you a face full of piss. Nothing more and nothing less.
Micah Herman
