Frank Story one

Frank Story one

Now don't get me wrong. When I write something down it's more than just peeing in the sand. These things can be listened too like a good bark before bed, but it's a long time since I had a bed to call my own. You're going to have to read. Yeah call me old fashioned. Readin's a dying art. But Frank and me, that's how we communicate. I read his thoughts, he writes 'em down. Yeah call us back end up and sniffing at the wind but that's how we do it.

Frank Armstrong is my buddy, but life on the road has been tough on us both. These days we get by, by scrounging mostly. I do better than Frank. I have a natural bent, and short legs. I'm not saying that Frank isn't short too, but pulling garbage outa the bins and settling down to a fest of leftovers ruins Frank's culinary aspirations for a time. Franks better at beggin' for pennies by writing up his stories and posting them up where ever we are sitting. Folks kinda read them while they wait on their buses to come. Sometimes they ignore them, but most times they help to pass away the few moments God gives them to be brushing up on their reading skills. Why else, says Frank, would God be making buses late.

Now you're going to have to wait a bit on me and Frank because ..... well Frank is coming down off a bit of a sugar rush on account of him over indulging in a packet of gummy bears. Frank has a taste for those things that goes beyond the normal. We've gotta say that Frank has a gummy bear addiction that ain't getting the kinda help it requires. Frank ain't looking so well at the present, but he's gotta few words we can stick up right now so's the folks waiting to get home on the 3.00pm to West Rose Park  have a bit of ease to their waiting boredom.