Flapping in the Wind by Ken Hada

Driving through Alpena I saw a guy sitting on a porch drinking Mountain Dew from a two-liter plastic jug. A faded rebel flag hung askew in the front window beside a rusted screen door flapping in the wind. I saw his face close as I passed (gearing down for small-town cops). I saw his eyes, his red ears and he saw me. In that chance glimpse of recognition I shifted gears and thanked God for plastic jugs.

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