Stany Swav

The ATV buzzed along slowly pulling the trailer behind it in the afternoon heat. It was 98 degrees and sunny not much humidity today. The middle-aged man piloting the rig thanked the heavens for that. He slowed for the rough spots in the trail and rounding the last corner spotted the House in the distance between the shrubs. Finally reaching the out-building and putting the rig away, he spent some time, removing his cargo of honey and combs, storing his protective clothing and netted head gear, then checked on his latest creation before entering the farm house. ...

“Your money’s still no good here”, I said, putting another 15 dollars down on the bar and ordering two more from the bar-tender. As under the influence as He was, He didnt protest, enjoying the buzz I had already been providing the last 2 hours. He didnt complain while I drank my Lite cal beers. We had started out the evening by my explaining my onset of diabetes left me with little recourse but to drink those horrid malt beverages. It shouldn’t have mattered any way as it appeared I had downed about 7 of those already. Another brown bottle would make the trip to the bathroom with me to have half of it poured down the urinal and then topped up with tap water. Sort of like eliminating the middleman, I suppose . . ...