Sunday, March 14, 2010

73. His way


It was the most he could find for under $5 and he shovelled it down hungrily. Walking towards the bin area, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Brian was glad his mother was back in ‘Derry. He could just picture her reaction to his current predicament. Wouldn’t tell her, then! The brewed coffee in this mall was doing his head in.

Fingering the job advert for the lumber yard, he pivoted on his heels and headed back up Oxford Street. Losing the breakfast job at the Potts Point B’n’B still rankled, yet he was coming to terms with his role in the blow-up. He had always been opinionated and ready to share. Curbing this would be a challenge. Having his wallet swiped walking through the turnstiles at The Cross compounded the insult. Not a good week.

He swung into the lumber yard, his brain keeping tabs on his mouth.

3 comments:

Joan Elizabeth said...

Another lovely character portrait. Has me thinking about the people I know who could do with their brain keeping tabs on their mouth.

Janet said...

...his brain keeping tabs on his mouth. Perfect.

I'd love to know more about the 'blow-up' he had been involved in!

diane said...

A good one. Hope he gets a job.