Trask Avenue

Winter officially ended when Luke materialized with his hot dog cart. He pushed the old wagon down 4th street, staying as close as possible to the parked cars. He paused when a car approached to let it pass. Drivers dramatically swerved and honked their horn in frustration. Every so often he received the one-finger salute. Luke didn’t appear to care. He kept to the street. The sidewalk was too risky, too full of potential mishaps. It was narrow, uneven, and dangerous. One false step, one small crack in the pavement, and the wagon would surely topple over. When it hit the ground, it would burst like a water balloon. A few angry gestures were nothing compared to that.

It was easy to understand Luke’s caution. The cart looked incredibly fragile. The wheels screeched like they had never heard of WD-40. The body was heavily dented and disturbingly rusted. Duct tape was everywhere. The chrome finish was matte, no longer shiny. The yellow Sabretts umbrella tilted too much and threatened to ruin the wagon’s delicate balance. If he unexpectedly hit a dip in the road (more…)