Today’s word is Renegade.
He had a tattooed arm from his hand to his shoulder. Strong looking with a partial beard and a mustache that magnified his top lip. Some say he was a loner, some say he was a biker, although some would say he was a RENEGADE.
He never spoke much and never seemed to form a friendship with anyone. He just sat at the corner table at the local bar. He would stare down his glass of beer.
Many wondered what had brought him there and it was about him, that made him walk alone.’Till one evening when a person came in. They walked over to his table and offered him their hand. He looked up at them, then stood with slowness and no smile. People took notice and started to eavesdrop. Who is the person who had broken the stare of this could be “RENEGADE”?
It was told by one of the waitresses there,that this loner, this biker, this renegade, just had to bury his whole family one day. He had lost all that was dear to him.They had been murdered in their sleep. That was a lawyer coming to him, to tell him they caught the killer. Now he was all alone with his grief. He did not ask for company to join him there in that bar, because he was afraid that they to would die. He assumed the killer had not been caught, or maybe that the killer was watching him.
He just sat wide-eyed at his beer, while the world passed him by. No loner, no biker, and no renegade was he, just trying not to deal with life, because of the loss he felt inside.