JEB

“HIS NAME WAS JEB”

BY SHEB SCHEBELLA

There once was a man named Jeb whom seldom ever slept in a bed. He had long curly hair; tan skin and a crooked smile and ratty jeans seem to be his style. Off Jeb would roam to anywhere but Nome. However if there was a girl there that loved him I suppose for a while he could have called it home.

 Jeb was reckless and kind but half out of his mind; he would stay up for days just to watch waves breaking on the Oregon coast, and when I asked him why he blushed and replied with a sigh as he stuck a little white candle in the sand and then folded his hands as tears weld up in his eyes.

 Jeb is somewhere in the world today, traveling slowly as he makes his way; he may appear lost without rhyme or reason, but if you approach him gently and hold out your hand, you will notice a smile and a well seasoned man.

Jeb is a guy I can’t put a figure on, he is neither here nor there, but seems to end up everywhere.