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In Dayton, it seemed as if the entire stretch of highway through the city was undergoing reconstruction and traffic was like something from a third world country.Now, outside of Richmond in Kentucky, traffic was at a virtual standstill, the radio stations all sucked and I was running low on gas. I had left Detroit to escape a relationship followed by a bad breakup. Actually, he was the reason I'd moved to Detroit in the first place. It was an urban war zone, miles of abandoned and rotting houses.
We were in a kitchen with a big center table and oil lamps placed around the room. They were both wearing tee shirts and I could see they had muscular arms and torsos. His hair was dark and curly and he had a weathered, handsome face.All of the bills, all of the responsibility fell on me.Then, the day before yesterday, I had forgotten my phone when I left for the day.He was wearing a pair of old overalls with no shirt on underneath and I couldn't help but admire the thick muscles of his biceps and shoulders and the forest of dark curly hair spouting out of the overall bib top.When I looked back up at his face he was half smiling, obviously aware that I'd been admiring what I could see of his body. "The younger one is Tate..." "You can call him Tater Head if you want." the older son said.