Posted by: Richard Bergstrom | September 21, 2011

Brown Paper Bag – Story

Brown Paper Bag – Story

And as the brown paper bag, half-ripped, fluttered into Bill’s field of vision, stumbled along the alleyway, and staggered to brush intimately against the urine-stained jeans that protected his achy right knee, the trash stopped, lingered, almost like a friend knocking on the door to his house, and wanted to come in to tell a story, maybe about the woman who lived down the block, on the corner, with the teasing smirk of a smile and the black leather miniskirt, or about the old man in the bowtie, maybe a college professor, who visited the duck pond and threw pieces of bread to the relaxing, leisurely waddling honkers, or maybe about the boy who once rode his bike home from school, who could talk to his parents without yelling, and who had never done drugs, but then the bag flinched, as if it knew it had hurt the man, and flew away in a breeze of haste, leaving little old Billy alone, next to the dumpster, homeless and anonymous among the street signs and nameless alleys of the city.

Please feel free to check out the new posts in the BergstromBlogs Network:

“Michael Young Flexible for #Rangers″ at

“The Rude Awakening of a #Transformers Fan” at

“The Silent Still – Denver Music Band” at

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