RDP Thursday: Washed Out
When the trains run through the tunnel and race passed my warehouse door
the ground shakes and the walls in my office groan
like an old woman complaining about her bones when it rains.
Once I found a dead body out by the dumpster, by the tunnel
and when I leaned over it, just a little to make sure he wasn’t just passed out
a train raced by and the ground shook and a rat ran out of the dead man’s mouth.
It slid down to his chest and it looked for a place to jump, it’s claws slid a little on the
gold buttons that held his washed out black peacoat that had seen better days
closed and in a flash the adventurous rat found it’s footing and it jumped.
I looked down the tracks into the tunnel because I didn’t want to watch that rat scurry
off and that is when I saw a man walking into the tunnel. He was wearing a black
washed out peacoat that had seen better days.
I looked at the dead man dressed in his black peacoat that had seen better days and the
I looked at the figure walking down the center of the tracks into the tunnel and I didn’t
bother to call out to him to come back, to get off of the tracks because it was too late.
He was gone.