jjulian78
His sideburns reminded me of Logan from the X-men. Long and bushy and there for all the world to see. It was like he hadn't shaved those things in years. They met his beard at a funny angle, forming a triangular patch on each cheek. He looked like a truck driver who'd not slept good in weeks, and hadn't bathed in longer.
I was lost in the despair of seeing him again. He had wrecked me, my life. He had torn it all asunder and didn't seem to care one way or the other. I hated him with a fiery burning inside of my soul. He was beautiful and in that beauty was a terrible arrogance that made me hate him a little bit more everything I saw him.
Time seemed to stand still as the smell of a mint julep permeated the hot summer air. Papa was on the porch in his sear-sucker suit, cold glass iced and in his hand as he watched the sun set on another summer day in the South. I miss that man and the memories that he instilled in me of those long ago days.