What The Hell Am I Doing In Cleveland

Life has a funny way of putting you in situations you never expected to be in and places you never planned to be.

He never expected to be in the land of the burning river and the place where people weren’t offended when you called them a Buckeye. Once upon a time a Crazy Texan and her clevelander friend had declared him enemy number one of the broken down and busted city but apparently the people at Tommys didn’t know that.

Or maybe they did and they just didn’t care.

Maybe they expected the mythical monster of the Cuyahoga to protect them. Maybe they expected it would rise from the dark and do battle with the grizzled old man who wandered the streets looking at places he had only heard of.

He wasn’t particularly worried about it. He had dealt with all sorts of crazy things and battled more than a few monsters. The scars from Shire Hamp’s evil grapevines still marked his arms and. It wasn’t hard to remember how the empty glade had made him an easy target.

Nevertheless he walked the streets with his head held high. Attitude radiated from him, this time around he wasn’t going to pussyfoot about anything. He was going to do what he was going to do and that was what would happen because he would make it so.

He wasn’t one to run from battles nor did he fear confrontation. In truth there were times he went looking for it because he had learned that some things are better met during your time and not another.

So he walked and wandered as he would and when he was accused of taunting another he just smiled. Yes, it was true that he been poking at them, goading them into action, but they hadn’t taken his bait so he had taken a different tack.

His train of thought was broken by the sounds of barking. He looked up and saw a group of dogs straining at their leashes.  Moments later they broke free of the three men who been holding them back.They wore goofy smiles and were decked out in Browns jerseys that were two sizes too small.

He had just enough time to see the men encourage the dogs to get him.

As he ran down the street he thought, “What the hell am I doing in Cleveland.”

Seconds later the first dog grabbed his right leg and the time for thought was gone. Now it was all he could do to fight them off. In between the barking he noticed a loud buzzing noise and wondered what the hell it was.


Moments later he sat up in bed and listened to the buzz of the alarm clock– it had only been a dream.


Not my best work, but seven minutes of writing doesn’t always yield great fiction.


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