Bikers Were Painting My Dead Mother’s House Pink At 4AM And I Didn’t Know Any Of Them

yard looking at their work.

“She’d love it,” Walt said.

“She would,” I said. And I meant it.

They started packing up their tools. I realized they were going to leave. Come back another day for the next items on the list.

“Wait,” I said. “Please. Come inside. Let me make you lunch.”

Nine bikers looked at me.

“It’s Monday,” I said. “Isn’t it?”

Walt smiled. continue reading …