The Boss © copyright 2012 by Sara Jacobelli (Flash Nonfiction)
We were teenagers, hitchhiking cross country, broke and tired and hungry and hot and cold, wet with rain, desperate with tears, sometimes scared, sometimes elated. Little things would happen, like someone was watching us. We called him “The Boss.” Once somewhere in the middle of Ohio, a kind lady who worked in a diner let us in before they were open, let us warm up, wash up in the bathroom and gave us some coffee. I swear, one hot day, two cold bottles of beer sat waiting for us by the side of the road. And once we found two big old worn out overstuffed chairs, each with a fast food bag containing still-warm burgers and fries, which we attacked with greedy adolescent hunger, no time to question the identity of our mysterious benefactor.
Photo Credit: “Hitch-hikers’s gesture,” by Wikipedia, Public Domain Photo.