Wrong Side of the Tracks
Copyright © 2016 by Wolfen Saunderson
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Mwezi Sekhmet Desoto
Donna brought the car down to a slow and steady turtle like creep as she made the brief left turn onto Briton Avenue and ever so discreetly began to ease us inside the main gate of the parking lot entrance to the Norfolk and Atlantic Railway’s Wilsmere Yard, just across the river a few ways or so in the area of our almost entirely much sleepier concrete jungle neighbor of Wilmington, Delaware. It was here that one of my most sincere and neighborhood friends become lover now worked full time as a prominent locomotive engineer for this particular company; after the many or so occasions back in our cubhood we would both do almost nothing but blabber constantly on and on about the subject matter, and just simply trains in general instead of the usual stereotypical female banter over headstrong males, pedicures, and all that other mumbo jumbo shit. Since we both shared pretty much innate first-hand experience on railroads; what with her great grandad working as a brakeman way back in the 1960s to early 90s days of the original B&O, and my mother being a fireman for the present day’s Cumbres and Toltec back in New Mexico, we often spent much of our time trackside by the NA’s aptly named Philly Subdivision; in which Greystripe’s place was in direct walking distance of, instead of the “usual” feminine like activities of dolls, claw painting, and tea parties. “Sekhmet.” I heard her coarse but tender sweet sounding tone call out. “Sekhmet!” She called out again, even rougher; only this time, I felt a sudden jolt and shaking of my left shoulder before I turned abruptly to see Donna in the driver’s seat to my left looking at me deeply with a look of pure concern. “Sekh, you conscious?” She asked, a small sliver of worry etching her tone. “Get back in the game, girl. We’re here.” “Huh? O-oh, right.” I stammered, quickly pushing my thoughts once again into the back corner of my mind and cocking my new gold plated desert eagle as I stepped out. “Let’s see where these monsters are trying to take our good little flower bomb, Lola.”