Boys of Greene St

Photo credit: Roger Bultrot

The young ones hang out on Greene St.  It’s always been that way.  A handful here. A handful there.  Groups mix and merge only to separate and regroup.

“We wait for Marty.” Sal dryly says.

Quiet descends on the group.  They fidget a bit.  Eyes look side to side. Nervous twitches.  Anxious moments rise.

“He… he must be late….or something.”  Timothy breaks the brief pause. 

Streets are alive as a truck chugs past.  Leaving a cloud of grey black smoke.  A car approaches slowly.  A group turns to behold the car.

“OK, boys let’s go!  Forget Marty!” Sal screams and flaps his wings.

A swarm of birds leave the wire.

Below the black car is no longer clean.

Written as part of a challenge called Friday fictioneers, https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2016/05/04/6-may-2016/