A Fine Morning

Most of the swivel seats were empty.

They looked like red barber’s chairs.

Stuart sat down one and put his feet up on the steel footrest.

He looked out the curved window.

It was like a wall of glass.

He watched for a long time.

The sky turned from pearly blue to purple to vivid pink, the long empty fields rolling smoothly past his feet.

A Negro came through rolling a sandwich cart.

Stuart bought a hot ham and egg sandwich wrapped in waxed paper.

The Negro was very polite.  “Yes sir,” he said,  “A fine morning. Yes, indeed.”

Friday Fictioneers

4 thoughts on “A Fine Morning

    • This is a piece of historical fiction set around 1940 when there were clear distinctions between what jobs could be held by blacks and white. The porter was always black, the conductor always white. The job of a porter was one of the few good-paying jobs available to young black men in the 1940s and 50s. Read James Alan McPherson’s short story A Solo Song for Doc if you want to know more. On another note, bring PC sensibilities to period fiction seems to be a trend these days. I find it irritating.

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