When the music started, I could not sit still.
“Act you age,” I knew others would preach.
But, my pickle became my microphone,
As I imitated a rock star on the beach.
You should have seen the looks I got
From old women and others still aging,
As I shook what’s left of my groove thing,
Not caring about all of their raging.
Fictional story, but, boy, would I love to be on the beach today! Written for the Three Things Challenge: rock star, beach, pickle.
Help from Heaven 
Leave a comment