This is an extremely short story that I wrote.

I was going to lengthen the story and have started but have yet to finish.

So you can call this a work-in-progress.

The King of 78th Street

A Old Man sits on his small porch. He watches the world go by. He does this because he doesn’t have anything else to do. Everybody else’s business becomes his business. But on a cloudy day like today almost nothing is happening, so, the Old Man picks up his broom and starts to sweep his small porch. If you and I were to look upon this porch we’d see nothing more than an entrance to a house but to the Old man this small area is the Throne of Brooklyn and all that pass it should bow down. Yet, few do.

Watching a neighbor walk by, the Old Man reminisces about a time when he could achieve an erection. His overweight Daughter-In-Law exits his Kingdom and backs out of the driveway in her Black Audi carriage. The Old King guides the mother of his heir out into oncoming traffic. When clear she backs into the street, waves goodbye, and speeds off to her life outside his Kingdom. He glares at a neighbor whom is parked in the spot right behind his carriage. Though the cars are separated by the Old King’s driveway it is still his block and this new Neighbor had better realize it soon.

Waiting for one p.m. to arrive, making it safe for his Doge carriage to be parked on the street without getting a ticket, the Old King again rests on his throne. As time passes he hears the street sweeper in the distance and stands, hand in pocket resting on his carriage’s keys. He watches the street sweeper pass his block. Feeling safe the Old King checks his timepiece as he sits. He usually sits on the concrete railing that separates his castle from the neighbor’s but today he has brought his folding throne. The ninety-minute wait for the alternate side Barbarians to pillage the dirty street is a special occasion and thus his folding throne. Had today been a sunny day he would have alternated his Royal duties between working in his garden and watching over his Kingdom. But on this summer day, the overcast sky brings a Fall-like chill to the air and it keeps our Old King from venturing too far from the entrance to his Castle. This is what the Old King does every Thursday between eleven-thirty a.m. and one p.m. It’s what he’ll do until he passes away in his sleep dreaming of a time when he could still achieve an erection.

THE END.

Written by the_film_geek