Dawson pulled up in front of the old theater, his old truck idling roughly. He stared at the building responsible for the course of his life. He still savored the irony of the townspeople asking him to fix the old building, returning it to its former state of glory. He knew their dreams of breathing life into Avery were pipe dreams but he’d allow them to dream, just as he had once.
He turned off the engine, tossing his cigarette butt out the window and stepped out of the truck. He gave a friendly wave to the mayor walking towards the diner. Dawson could picture the scene. The usual group meeting for their ritual breakfast of coffee and gossip. Not that there was much to gossip about in Avery. Outside of Carolyn’s unexpected pregnancy, rumors flying fast and furious about who the father really was. Dawson felt a little sorry for Carolyn, knowing she lived in a private hell, much like he did.
Stifling a yawn, he grabbed the box of trash bags from the bed of his truck. He’d decided to start with the bulk of the work which would be inside. Over the years, the bored teens of Avery had snuck into the old theater to make it a place of partying and release of pent-up hormones. He supposed it was a natural course of action given there wasn’t much to do in the sleepy town.
Making his way into the building, his eyes momentarily hurt as he left the glare of the morning sun. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The shadows turned into visions of peeling paint, piles of trash, and smatterings of graffiti. He could make out the faint scent of urine as he kicked a path through the piles.
Yes, he’d have plenty to keep him busy and his mind occupied as he settled the score accomplishing his life’s mission. A wicked grin in place, he whistled as he began collecting debris.
This week I’m taking part in my first prompt with Studio30+ , a picture prompt. We had a choice of two: Peeling Paint or Kool Aid. When I saw the picture for the ‘Peeling Paint’, I knew it was perfect for Dawson’s Story.