He didn't care much for television. It became a race to see how many car commercials could be aired in a thirty-minute show. Besides, he wouldn't be buying a new car anytime soon, as he turned in his license a while back. He preferred to sit on his front porch and think back to when this little house was bustling with the laughter of children and grandchildren and the smell of Sunday dinners that brought them all together. Now it's quiet, and the laughter has gone someplace else, and the only thing that moved was a teardrop falling down his face and landing on the old wooden porch.
Mike 2024
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