an ode to quarryville (1)

maple donuts

10.3.2010

It feels like a small stop off the interstate. Somewhere in the Midwest but maybe somewhere in the South. Two pumps and maybe that many cars in the parking lot. October drizzle falls like feathers in the softly lit night sky illuminated only by the lights humming over the pumps.

Summer. It’s gone.

We all left in search of something better somewhere else. Some of us found it, I suppose. Starting new always breaks something old and I realize I’m just like that something old. I sigh in the same manner and exclaim “Geeze!” at the same exact time during the Steelers games. I even complain the same way when something goes wrong at work. I’m even taking over the same job at the same age that he started twenty five years ago (The very job, that today, after learning he’d lost a company he’d spent most of those twenty five years working for, he said had finally reached its conclusion).

Now what?