The dutiful son, dropped out of high school to run the farm and settle into a life that Hobson told his mother, “would end by shitting his pants and dying alone clutching a shotgun, soiled in the soy field.” Hobson wasn’t happy about his new path, his life would be lived the same as all the other Oklahoma dirt farmers. Hobson only returned to his high school one last time, he left the contents of his locker untouched, the only thing he went back for was Cassie Jones, the last person he would ever love.
My goal here is to inform the masses. Not to be preached too by a talking head on a local cable news network. Why are all drug stories told from the pathetic viewpoint of an addict? The sad sob story will not be said here!
OP-ED post about massage in cuba.
The idyllic, sprawling, tropical landscape of Viñales was fading fast. The clandestine jungles would soon be replaced by the concrete jungle. We were not headed to a new city, we were headed to a new world. Havana was waiting.