Continued from May 29, 2018
#AmWriting #Fiction #IndieAuthor
Marcus folded the slip of paper and set it on the passenger’s seat before climbing out of the car. He grabbed his jacket from the back and walked toward the building, his knees screaming at him as he went.
“Took you long enough,” A familiar voice said from behind him.
“Hi, Dale,” Marcus said as he turned around, “I didn’t hear you pull in.”
Dale was walking up to him, his six-foot-five-inch slender frame made his strides long enough that he quickly covered the hundred foot gap between them.
“Need some help?” he asked, offering an arm to Marcus.
“No, I’ve got it. I’m happy you could be here.” Marcus replied as he resumed his walk.
“I’m just happy that you could be here. When dad died a few years ago it was you and Aunt Gail that helped me through it. I don’t know how you’re dealing with it so well.” Dale said.
“I don’t know about well, but my heart keeps beating and my lungs keep pulling in air. Not much of a choice if your body won’t let you go.” Marcus said, finding the combination of walking and talking almost too much. “What about you? How have you been doing? I haven’t seen you, Christ, in nearly two years!”
“Time gets away from us, it always does.” Dale smiled at him as they reached the top of the hill, “I’ve been carrying on Dad’s work. The family business can’t rest, you know?”
Marcus nodded thoughtfully as they reached the front door.
“You ready for this?” Dale asked.
“We’ll find out.” Marcus replied as he pulled the door open.