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August 24, 2019

Driving Through Prescott, KS

I stopped along the back roads I was taking home in a little ghost of a town named Prescott.

I let Biggie stretch her legs while I had a cigar and enjoyed the quiet of the neglected baseball Diamond on the edge of town.

As we sat there, I watched a young father giving his toddler a ride on his motorcycle. Around the block he went...then again...then again.

I knew his route, so on my way out I took the opposite direction, the gravel road that went along the backside of his place.

I waved him to stop as I approached.

“I’ve been watching you two go ride the whole time I was over relaxing with a cigar. Can I get your picture?” I asked.

His name is Wayne and his two-year-old son is Grayson. Nice guy.

I snapped a few with my iPhone in the low light as we chatted about his son, his cars, and such.”

I tried talking to Grayson to get him to smile. “He won’t talk to you,” Wayne replies. I didn’t pry.

As I was saying my goodbyes, his older son ran out of the house and hopped on behind, holding on to the back of his dad’s overalls for safety.

Author

Russell Viers

I'm just a guy who finds the world an interesting place and likes to capture certain moments with a camera. They aren't for sale, or anything. I just like them. Well, usually. I've taken a lot of photos I don't like, as well.

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