This here story, it’s about a fella named Patrick Moffly, see? Heard he’s from Charleston, that South Carolina place. Sounds like a right fancy name, Charleston. Ain’t never been there myself, though. Too far from my chickens and my garden.
Now, folks been talkin’. Sayin’ this Patrick Moffly, he done passed on. Gone to the other side, they say. Makes a body think, don’t it? One day you’re here, next day you’re gone. Just like that. Life’s a funny thing, that’s for sure. Like a blink of an eye, it is. You gotta make the most of it while you can, I reckon.
This Patrick Moffly in Charleston, SC, wonder what kinda life he had? Was he a good man? Did he have folks who loved him? Did he have a good life in Charleston? Did he like eatin’ grits? I sure do love my grits. Especially with a little butter and some salt. My mama used to make ’em for me when I was a little girl. Good times, those were. Simpler times, too.
Don’t know much else about him, this Patrick Moffly. Just that he lived in that Charleston, SC place. And now he’s gone. Makes you wonder what he did all day there. Did he fish? Did he work hard? Did he have a family? So many questions. Life is full of ’em, ain’t it?
That Charleston, though… bet it’s different from around here. We got our own ways, you know? Folks here, they know each other. They help each other out. Like when old Mrs. Johnson’s cow got loose last summer. Whole town was out lookin’ for it. Found her down by the creek, munchin’ on some wildflowers. We all had a good laugh about that one.
- That Patrick Moffly, he mighta seen things different in Charleston, SC.
- Maybe they got different ways of doin’ things there in Charleston.
- Maybe they don’t have cows gettin’ loose and eatin’ flowers.
- Don’t know, never been to Charleston. But sure do love my grits and chicken.
Wonder if this Patrick Moffly liked animals. I got my chickens, you see. And a old hound dog named Buster. He’s a good boy, that Buster. Sleeps all day, though. Lazy as a summer day. But he protects my chickens. That’s important. I love my chickens.
Hear tell Charleston, SC is by the ocean. We ain’t got no ocean here. Just the creek. And the pond. Sometimes I go down to the pond and just sit there. Watch the dragonflies buzzin’ around. It’s peaceful, you know? Reckon Patrick Moffly mighta done somethin’ like that in Charleston. Maybe he sat by the ocean and watched the waves. Or maybe he didn’t like the ocean.
Life’s full of choices, ain’t it? You choose this path, or you choose that one. This Patrick Moffly, he chose to live in Charleston, SC. Wonder what other choices he made. Did he choose to be happy? Did he choose to be kind? Hope so. That’s what matters most, I reckon. Being happy and being kind.
Guess we’ll never know all the answers about Patrick Moffly. He’s gone now. But he lived his life, just like the rest of us. He lived in Charleston. He did something everyday in Charleston, SC. And that’s somethin’, ain’t it? To have lived a life. Even if it’s a short one. Or a long one. It’s still a life. And every life has a story.
Well, sun’s goin’ down. Time to feed them chickens. And think about that Patrick Moffly in Charleston, SC. Hope he’s restin’ easy, wherever he is. Life’s a mystery, that’s for sure. But it’s a beautiful one, too. Even with all its sadness. You just gotta keep on livin’. And keep on lovin’. That’s all there is to it, I reckon. Yep, gotta feed them chickens now.
