As I sit here waiting for my daughter in the warm October night, I embrace the silky dusk, wrapping it around my tired soul. Time has stopped here for me as I sit in my car in this lonely parking lot, listening to the traffic sounds echoing from Main Street. This time and place remind me of an old Twilight Zone episode. The streets running through the 1950’s are much like the streets of Salyersville, Kentucky on this unseasonable fall evening. I hear the rise and fall of voices somewhere, and artificial light falls on the whitewashed block wall in front of me, casting weird, foreshortened shadows.
Stars are twinkling above the still-green hills, and katydids and crickets provide background music. A woman’s soprano laughter slices through the evening air, and momentarily, her high heels click-clack past me. I hear a car door shut.
Anything can happen on a night like this. A dog begins to bark, and I would not be surprised to see Rod Serling step out from behind the dark, leafy tree beside me, his cigarette smoke swirling sinuously into another dimension.
appalachianrambler 