Trailer Park

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic


About a woman that lives in a trailer waiting for the mail...

Submitted: August 01, 2018

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Submitted: August 01, 2018

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“Trailer Park”

 

She woke up

in

the same

rundown

piece of shit

single wide

mobile home

she passed out

in,

a new sun

shinning through

the same old

dirty windows

that have faced

east

for the last

fifteen years

of her life

is now glaring

into her eyes,

she doesn’t move

her head

just closes her

eyes

and gropes around

blindly

on the coffee

table

for her cigarettes

her fingers finally

brush against

the familiar

cellophane wrapper

of her box of

Newports

dropping the box

on her chest

as she digs

out a cigarette

and a tiny

Bic lighter

from inside

the box,

she starts to

clear her throat

unaware

that she does

this

right before

every cigarette

she lights,

her first deep

drag

soothes her raw

throat

she blows the

smoke

into a permeant

haze

that hangs over

the living room

floor

she seems to

draw enough

strength

from her morning

ritual

to sit up

and contemplate

making a pot

of coffee

she takes a

few more

drags

the exhaled

smoke

being cut into

layers

by the sunlight

streaming through

the blinds,

she goes into

the kitchen

washes out the

coffee pot

then reloads it

with fresh grounds

from a dented

39oz can

of bargain brand

coffee,

she uses a

percolator style

pot

to brew her

coffee

for no good

reason

other than she

likes the sound

it makes

and to watch

it

spit coffee

through the little

metal tube,

she sits on

a stool

smoking her

cigarette

while watching

the coffee making

process

till the last

“blurp”

comes out of

the metal tube,

she reaches across

the counter

grabs a cup

with yesterday’s

coffee

still in it

dumps it in

the sink

and gives it

a quick rinse

before she takes

her semi-clean

cup

of fresh coffee

out her sliding

glass door

on to a small

patio

where she spends

a good part

of each day

it has a

small unbalanced

table

with two

mismatched chairs,

she sets her

coffee and

cigarettes

on the table

a gossip magazine

and a abalone

shell

that she used

as an ash tray

were the only

other things

on the table

she sips at

her coffee

refrains from

lighting up

another cigarette

down to her

last three

waiting for the

blue and white

motorized cube

to feed her

box

it’s monthly

government check

along with many

others

who live on the

same asphalt

track

as her,

she looks across

the narrow black

road

at her neighbor

she’s watering  her

five by seven foot

lawn

for the second

time

so far today

she’ll water that

hallow ground

along with her

twenty potted

and hanging plants

five times a day

the highlight

of her retirement

due to a very

weak

401K plan

and God help

you

if your dog

even looks in

the direction of

her personal

garden of Babylon,

she looks in

her box of

Newports

for the third

time

somehow expecting

the cigarette

count

to have increased

since the last

time

she checked

she lets the

mini lighter

along with one

cigarette

slide out of

the box

and onto the

table

her fingers take

the lighter

and fiddle with

it

weaving it between

her fingers

a simply disguised

stall

to occupy her

mind

hoping to prolong

the time before

she lights her

cigarette

bringing her reserve

number

down by one,

she goes back

inside

refills her cup

with her percolated

coffee

peeks into the

refrigerator

and pulls out

an empty carton

of Newports

hoping to find

some hidden pack

overlooked by her

earlier

in the week

she always keeps

her cigarettes

in the refrigerator

says it keeps

them fresher

though she can’t

remember who

told her so,

she picked up

a pair of cheap

sunglasses

on her way

out

off the kitchen

counter

sitting back down

at her table

on the patio

as round two of

her neighbor’s

aggressive watering

comes to an end,

she watches a

few birds

taking sanctuary

in the wet

grass

from an over

effective

early morning sun,

she lights her

cigarette

drops the lighter

into the near

empty box

and thumbs through

the gossip magazine

that she has

already read

ten times before

happy that this

month’s check

didn’t fall on

a Tuesday

when all the

penny savers

and coupon fliers

come in the

mail

adding

two extra hours

to the expected

delivery time,

something the

mailman

has tried to

explain

to some of the

more paranoid

people

on his route

but they still

felt

it had more

to do with

the government

just jerking them

around

then an increase

in the mail

load,

she finishes her

second cup of

coffee

the caffeine

and nicotine

boost

make her want

to get up and

do something

the thought of

cleaning her

house

briefly entered

her mind

before her attitude

pushed it back

out

as she decided

just to sit

there

rereading her

gossip magazine

and spacing out

her last two

cigarettes

till the mail

truck

finally pulled up,

she turns to

page 33

and reads the

horoscopes

of the months

other than hers

surprised she hadn’t

thought to do that

already,

she instinctively

grabs her box

of Newports

as she reads

her eyes never

leaving

the page

as she lights

the cigarette

clearing her throat

as always

before she takes

her first drag

it’s not in till

she gets down

to November

Scorpio

as she is putting

her cigarette

butt

into the abalone

shell ashtray

does she realize

she is down

to her last

cigarette,

she opens up

her box of

Newports

looks inside

to double check

a cigarette count

she already knows

is down to one

she sets the

box

back down on

the table

picks up the

magazine

and nervously

flips through

the pages

feeling a bit

on tilt

with her reserves

mistakenly

cut in half,

she stands up

walks to the

rail

of her patio

leans over it

and looks down

the asphalt ribbon

towards the

mailboxes

a couple of

people

hanging out

and talking,

like her

nothing better

to do

with their time

then wait for

the mail

while dishing

out

the latest

trailer park

trash

she was

tempted

to head down

and hear who

was waking up

next to who

after drinking

one generic

beer

too many,

but she had

her nights too

when that single

wide

was way too

much trailer

for one woman

letting her

standards

slide

just a little

down at the

club house

monthly mixer

having to

remember

just because

they live on

the far side

of the park

doesn’t mean

she won’t keep

running into them,

she smiles

as she looks

into her box

of Newports

gives it a

shake

and watches

the lone

cigarette

and mini lighter

roll around

sometimes

that next morning

awkwardness

is worth it

she says in

a low

“matter of fact”

voice

to herself

as two elderly

ladies

who are speed

walking

past her place

“The mail is

two minutes out”

one of the

ladies

shouts out to

her,

she calmly

gets up from

the larger of

the two

mismatched

patio chairs

straightens out

her clothes

as the neighbor

across the street

comes outside

to water her

lawn

for the third

time

today

seeing a crow

on the outer

perimeter

of the grass

she sends a

burst

of well-aimed

water

at it

before starting

her ritual,

she picks up

her box of

Newports

slowly walks

down

the patio steps

then half way

down

she pauses

and taps out

her last cigarette

and lighter

from the box

and lights it

clears her throat

and takes a

long drag,

her neighbor

looks over at

her

then hollers

across the road

“You know

if you just got

direct deposit

the money

would already

be

in your account”

she looks at

her neighbor

waits a few

beats

then takes a

long drag off

her cigarette

blowing out

the smoke

as she makes

her reply 

“yea,

I know

but it’s the

buildup of

anticipation

that makes

that last

cigarette

Oh So Sweet”

she says

followed by a

few short

coughs

as she casually

walks down

to the mailbox

to pick up

her check…

 

Tom Allen…07-09-2018…


© Copyright 2018 Tom Allen714. All rights reserved.

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