29 Degrees and I Dropped My Keys…

“Can you see them?” my father asked sounding aggravated as I was on all fours on the ground trying to find the keys I had just dropped. It was 29 degrees and I was out in my front yard with a cigar lighter wishing all hopes on a lost cause. My flashlight’s batteries were dead of course. “We’ll find them in the morning at daybreak,” I finally told my father. My father and I headed to buy my groceries. I am hoping dawn will shed new light on the matter literally and figuratively. 

Source: The 4th Avenue Blues - December 16, 2013 Category: Mental Illness Authors: Andrew Quixote Source Type: blogs