Happiness. It's relative.
Posted on November 24, 2015 by Jan Wilberg
We ride trucks.
We spit on the ground.
We wear old black Levis.
We drink coffee black.
We break our own hearts.
We smoke what there is.
We don’t want any mail.
We go where we are.
We live when we want.
Category: WritingTags: #yeahnomo, 42-word microstory, NaBloPoMo, Yeah Write

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What happens here on Red's Wrap is all over the map. There is no single theme, no overarching gripe, no malady of my own or others that dominates. I write about what seems important or interesting at the moment and what aims me toward hope. I write stories, essays, poems - whatever fits the day and the mood. Nothing stays the same, here or anywhere. That's a good thing. Happiness. It's relative.
(c) Janice Wilberg and Red’s Wrap (2010-2026). Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Janice (Jan) Wilberg and Red’s Wrap with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Reblogged this on Red's Wrap.
Gave the feel of the cowboy life…
The life and times of a cowboy hey? Thanks for sharing 🙂
Smoke what there is? Yikes!!!!!
Refusing to be pegged.
“We smoke what there is” — now there is a line that makes me go to gross places.