As I was sitting on the front porch this morning a man pulled up in a black Mustang with a rumbling engine and dark opaque windows. Who could be inside this car? Was this a drug dealer? Was his hair thick and black and combed back in greasy neat rows? Did he have on a sports jacket concealing a .45 caliber? Was he wearing sunglasses and did he have a smirk on his face? What was he here for and who was he going to see?
Would it end well for the one he would visit?
Then - - -
The driver's door opened. A grandfather got out to bring the forgotten lunch to his granddaughter at the school across the street.
