mhatlas
the cleaning crew swept past the highway, trying to look busy. Their orange jump suits standing out against the yellowing, brittle grass. "How many McDonalds cups can one man pick up?" he thinks.
I think of Dr. Caldwell, his red hair. His obsession with the word "ebullient". Discussing the romantic poets, the lake district, he would become ebullient, which considering his sinewy face, was slightly disturbing.
I think about my dad. He focuses on nothing but autoracing. Tells me about the turbine engines of indy 500s past. Who cares? At this point, no one except him and a multitude of old men that have never accomplished much in their lives.