POSTCARD FROM THE NEIGHBORS

“Darling, in this line of work, a man has to know when to put down their tools and enjoy the little things, especially when he already finished his work.—I took a loud sip of the coffee, loud enough to let her hear it through the speaker—“It’s God’s gift to us after all”
“Do you believe in God old man?” She questioned my faith.
“Come down here, you’ll see him for yourself.”
“I took you for a showoff, but narcissistic?” She laughed. “I’m heading there, this better be worth it”.

I understand she thought I was talking about me, I don’t blame her, my faults ain’t nothing but short, but she’s right, I am no crazy self-loving weirdo. “You know what I meant lady, now be quick or you’ll miss it!”.

Some minutes passed, the wind roaring to the south now; the engine going smooth. I took another sip of my coffee. Good stuff, tasted different from the usual, around these parts it has a certain punch to it, still delicious. A familiar silhouette distorted by the heat appeared in the distance, a trail of dust behind her. I looked through the binocular—saw some rope strapped around her chest. I raised a hand and waved at her, she did the same.