Lady and Wolfman
Wolfman—so called by his peers because of the fur coat he wore, even in the summer—watched Lady amble toward him, shoulders hunched, pushing her possessions in a rusted grocery cart, one wheel drunkenly spinning. No one knew her real name. He wasn’t certain she did after years on the street. But she’d always wanted to be called a lady, so that was the name the street people knew her by.
Most folks wouldn’t find her beautiful, with oily, salt and pepper hair stuck to her cheeks, and a face permanently etched with a scowl. Wolfman saw beyond all that. She was the one who came to his aid after another binge with a bottle of Jack could have put him in the hospital. The one who sat with him in his box, helped him sober up, and convinced him alcohol was the enemy. The one who hosted their personal AA meetings.
He stood as she approached, reached out to her, kissed her on the cheek. She hrumphed him away with a sweep of her hand. Her face remained the same, but he noticed a sparkle in her eyes. She was almost alive again. And so was he.
Jim Harrington began writing fiction in 2007 and has agonized over the form ever since. Jim’s Six Questions For . . . blog (http://sixquestionsfor.blogspot.com/) provides editors and publishers a place to “tell it like it is.” You can read more of his stories at http://jpharrington.blogspot.com.
9 thoughts on “Lady and Wolfman”
I can see them now …
Very nicely done, Jim. It’s good to see a story with a human touch about the less fortunate in our society. Most of their days are filled with indifference,
A sweet, sweet little anecdote. Maybe too sweet. AGB
agb – your’e the sole sane voice here – don’t be so heartlessly false. tell us really what you feel? i think this piece was awful – for once stop being nice. and give us your valuable experience which will improve writing and authors. be true, man!
I get your point and appreciate it. I did think some of the descriptions were well done. AGB
So much told in so few words.
This story reminds us these people too have their stories. Nice!
A beautiful piece of flash fiction.
Enjoyed this, Jim – many thanks.