Old Girl, A Backwards Dream

he was just sitting there listening, you know... sitting on the stoop, listening to the old black man play guitar... listening to the children playing across the way... listening to the occasional car, and the way the sunset clapped against the trees, keeping rhythm. the old man started singing, low, almost a growl: 'old girl, old girl, where you been so long? old girl, old girl, where you been so long? done took the night out of my daytime, and the darkness out of dawn. old girl, old girl, why you be that way? old girl, old girl, why you be that way? you pack your clothes to travel on, you dont unpack your clothes to stay...' he grinned at the old man, 'yeah...' the smell of streaked meat frying, and coffee boiling over came from the house... 'how many eggs y'all want? ' the old man started singing again: 'old girl, old girl, why you wanna shake that thing? old girl, old girl, why you wanna shake that thing? you lock me out of your house, why you wanna be so mean? '... 'y'all gonna see mean in a minute, if you dont get your buts in here and eat..' 'we coming, baby', the old man grinned, slowly sliding the guitar back in its case. shaking his head and looking up, he saw an owl, perched silently on the eaves. pulling down his hat, he followed the old man in.... the sound of the screen door slamming echoed in the dusk.