“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.

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