The old man and me were travellin’ light.
“I can’t live here”, he said. Guess I lose, because this girl of mine, is livin’ here too.
“We’ll be leaving in the morning”. But I wanted to stay around, so I asked to call the doctor.
“It’s hard to tell, but I really do think: you got something”, he said. He must have been the sensitive kind when he saw my crying eyes.
“So, can we stay around? Everything will be alright.”
I wish I had not said that, because at this moment we are ridin’ home, to the artificial paradise.
Author Notes: Hervé SUYS (°1968 - Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and hasn't stopped yet. He usually writes them hatless and barefooted.