The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Sunday, August 10, 2008


I have had this idea for a while. A story idea about an old man named Miles. I know where he starts out. I know where he will end up. I even know some of the means that will get him from the beginning to the end. But not everything. Here is what I have so far...

Miles felt his entire body with his right hand and found no blood. His eyelids slowly closed and then opened up. He did this a few times until he had the sense to open the door. By this time there were a few people approaching his truck. A man walked up to the door and shut it, keeping Miles in the driver's seat of the truck.

“Sir, are you okay?” the man yelled loudly at Miles.

“What?” Mile asked, his ears ringing for some reason.

Another person had already ran into the bank and has someone call an ambulance. No one thought to call a wrecker, but they would have to soon enough. Miles had wrapped his front bumper around the brick column of the bank's drive-thru. The pretty girl from the bank that always smiled at Miles had come outside with a worried look on her face. The manager right behind her, but he seemed more concerned with the bricks and mortar than Miles.

“Let me out of this son of a bitch,” Miles said to the man holding his door.

“Sir,” the man said, “an ambulance is on the way, I think you should just stay put.”

Miles looked at the man.

“Son, you better move your ass.”

The man did what he was told.

Miles walked around the truck to look at the damage. His old truck had took many a beating and had many whiskey marks, but this wasn't something that he could hide. He slumped down on the concrete, his shoulders sunken and his head dipped down towards the ground. Everyone that was waiting for the ambulance thought that he was hurt. He wasn't hurt, Miles just quickly came to recognize that his driving days were now over.


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