Johnny R McAvery
Magic still exist for those willing to see.
Alistair was walking alone in the deep of night. He had on a coat several sizes too big. The coat was one of those tweed coats, a mustard looking green with elbow pads sown on poorly. The arms of the jacket covered his hands completely and it was a good thing, the weather was cold outside and as the wind blew it made his hair flow behind him, obvious that he hadn't been bathed in a long while.
When a minivan took the curve it shone on him and the ripped pants revealed his thing legs and boots that were several sizes too big. The man inside that van slowed to a stop and rolled down his window. "Hey kid are you okay? Need food? I.... Look I'll get you home. I promise."
Alistair didn't say anything but he had some sense that he could trust this man. Even if the man was a crook what would he loose? He had been tossed from everyplace he ever visited. Maybe death would be forgiving. When the man opened the passenger door he got in and fumbled with the buckle. The man then drove them to his house.
When a minivan took the curve it shone on him and the ripped pants revealed his thing legs and boots that were several sizes too big. The man inside that van slowed to a stop and rolled down his window. "Hey kid are you okay? Need food? I.... Look I'll get you home. I promise."
Alistair didn't say anything but he had some sense that he could trust this man. Even if the man was a crook what would he loose? He had been tossed from everyplace he ever visited. Maybe death would be forgiving. When the man opened the passenger door he got in and fumbled with the buckle. The man then drove them to his house.