Down By The Road

"I begun ta feel kinda sorry fer myself,"

Down By The Road

It wuz one of them there dark kinda nights when the moon don't shine ur nuthin, well it wuz, an I can tell ya, things wuz a kinda hard ta see.

I was there on one of them there narrow cuntry kinda roads uh walkin sutherd. 

I tell ya, things wuz uh quiet when suddenly this big ole truck cum uh rumblin down the road tossin up dust an everthing. There wuz uh people whoopin an hollerin an doin all sorts of crazy things, an my head begun uh swirlin round an round.

It wuz then, when them folks passed,  that I heard em a yellin things at me that wern't too nice.  Well, they wern't, an my feelins got all hurt, an things like that.

They yelled at me an told me ta get off of that there road ur be struck dead by lightnin.

I wuzn't quite sure how'z they wuz a plannin ta pull that off, but I wuzn't plannin ta stickn aroun ta find out, so I stepped off ta the side of the road.

It wuz muddy, an none too pleasant either.

After awhile of standin there I begun ta feel kinda sorry fur myslf and begun ta cry.

I cried pert near fifteen minutes before an old farmer man come upon me an asked me why I wuz a cryin the way I wuz.

I told him I didn't know any other way ta cry, an besides, I doesn't feel all that good.

He listen ta my story as I told him about my recent encounter. I made up uh whole bunch of it ta make it a bit more dramatical an all. Ta hear it now, it don't sound nothin like the actual occurance.

The way I told it wuz said in such a sad fashion that the old farmer sat down an begun ta cry. 

Him a cryin an all set me off again an we wuz uh both ballin our eyes out. We did so fur pert near fifteen minutes, a leanin on each other an cryin like babies.

Soon enough a nice little farmer girl come by an saw us, me an the ole farmer man, a cryin along the side of that ole road.

She stopped by an asked if everthin wuz fine, which, any fool culd see, it wern't, an then asked if there wuz any thing she culd do.

Well, the old farmer man begun ta tell the story I had told him, only he added his own parts ta it. That story had begun ta grow an grow, until it wuz ful of sin an misery, death an murder, stealin, an ever other thing imaginable, the likes of which may have neva been herd bfore.

Well friends, I tell ya, it wern't long before that poor little farmer girl begun ta ballin too.

There we all stood, on the side of that there road, a cryin like squallin pigs.

We cried an cried an cried, till, suddenly, we stopped.

We looked at one another when all of uh sudden we burst out uh laughin. We laughed so hard our bellies hurt.

There wuz no reason fur it, and we didn't know why we wuz doin it, but alls we knew is we culd'nt stop.

I t didn't seem ta make much sense ta us and it neva did.

Ya see, that's the whole point. Sometimes things make sense, an others they don't.

Don't let yaself get all confussed or out of sorts by this tale, ya see, it neva wuz intended ta make any sense, it neva wuz.

An that's just how life is.

So, here ya are in this sad state ah mind, wastin all this good time a readin this nonsense, when all in all, it don't mean nuthin at all.

Author's Note

Sometime things just don't have to mean anything. Was there a story here, I don't know, but I doubt it.