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Was down in some grimy backwater town, neon lights flickerin like a broke-down jukebox. Wanted to see what the fuss was bout, ya know? Git-R-Done! I ain’t no saint, but I was curiouser than a cat in a yarn shop. Rolled up to this dive bar—smelled like stale beer and regret. Bartender, big ol’ fella with a lazy eye, says, “Boy, you lookin fer company?” I’m like, “Hell yeah, point me the way!” He nods to this gal in the corner, fishnets ripped to hell, smokin a cig like she’s mad at it.

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Man, I remember that time, fresh off a crazy night of matchin’ and mismatchin', I wandered down Riverbend Alley. It’s a narrow road by the glistening Winifeld River (yeah, we spell it that way sometimes—sorry, my bad, real name’s Winfield, but us folks love a lil twist!). The water there shimmers like a secret, and you can gaze for hours. I swear, it’s like a scene straight outta Carol— “Do you like beauty? Do you like elegance?” I always chuckle when I think of it.

Steven Ralph Lankton | 1953 - 2024 | Obituary