Chris Livingston
“The mail is addressed to Eloise Delgado. There sure is a ton of it.” The young man put the mail back into the mailbox and moved along the sidewalk. The skateboarders walked quietly up the alleyway behind the property. This was their second pool of the day and they marveled at how Hollywood always gave up something. They had ridden so many pools in the Los Angeles area. They looked over the wall. One of them went over and checked the house. He came back smiling. “Empty” The pool sat there. Steady. Sure. A Blue Haven giant from a better time. The blue tiles were a promise… One by one, they pulled themselves over and into the yard. They quickly cleaned the pool and took some runs. The world and its problems were quickly swept away.
BLKPRJKT
Brad McClain
Rick Stine
One of them sat on the stairs and wondered at the strangeness of it all. Eloise. Who was this woman? Where was she now? Questions. He looked over at the porch by the backdoor. An old wrought iron cross hung beside the back window. Jesus Christ hung there, looking out at him. Was he a constant reminder to tow the line? Eternal life? Who wanted that? The skateboarder shrugged. An old terra cotta pot sat on the steps covered in cobwebs, and a limp aloe stubbornly hung onto hope… The skater walked over and turned the spigot on. A trickle of water remained in the pipes. He watered the little tenacious plant. Whoever she was, Eloise was gone, but her spirit somehow remained. The skateboarders rode, the parched aloe drank deeply and the iron Jesus stood in mute testimony to the end of all things that were.
Thank you to MRZ for the images. Skate - Ozzie