“She always put her mouth where her money was,
but, Hell, that was how her Mother used to needle her!”
His voice seemed to cloud over somehow- from within-
maybe it wasn’t only her Mom he was remembering.
His wet hands were roughly scraping at his gnarled scruff of a beard.
Mine were fumbling uncomfortably in my pockets.
I crossed his now outstretched palm with some pieces of silver.
He had already been looking past me – through me.
“Shit! You ain’t but licked me yet! ‘N’ ain’t ’bout too neither!”
Glancing back as I moved on, I could almost see her.