At Six

I remember paper and clothes flying about leaving a trail all through the house. Loud shouting and lots of crying, my mom and dad were fighting, he was leaving and I was pleading to go with him, I didn't want him to go. Then he was gone and there we were alone. A short time later my sisters and I would take the greyhound bus to Wichita to see him often. I can remember those long bus rides, playing on the floor under my sisters seat. It was dirty from the dried mud off our shoes and countless other travelers. Sometimes we would stop in Ponca City at some diner and get chips and of course pecan pie. We would always run back outside to ensure we didn't miss the bus. After the trip ensued and the pecan pie began to bring sleep towards us the windows of the bus felt cool as the ac blew up side vents. Kinda remember a funky odor though, like a dirty air filter or something similar. Ah... engrams.