Copyright Layla Bangs 2013
Published at Smashwords
“One more street. Just one more street and we’ll call it a day… you have my word” His word? I’d had enough of his words for one day. Its 98 degrees, I’m hot and I can feel my summer dress cling to my body as beads of sweat roll down my body.
To make things worse, the backpack filled with the good word of the Lord is weighing me down. Heck, no one we’ve pestered the whole day has been kind enough to lighten my load. Not even one damned person.
I can’t say I blame them exactly. My sales pitch could use some work, and if not for Dad’s insistence, I’d be holed up inside like the rest of the country, basking in the arctic blast of the air conditioner instead imposing my Father’s idea of salvation on a disinterested public.
I find myself counting down the hours until I can go back to college and have some freedom, even a shred of independence back again as I approach the grand looking double doors located at the end of a wooded, winding driveway.