Oliver

                “Hey you twat, stop droolin’ on me hat please”

            “Huh. What?” Oliver mumbled.

            “I said you to stop droolin’ on me hat!”

            Oliver stood up in shock.  He was sitting on a bench at a plaza and this homeless man was sitting beside him.

            “Where are we?”

            The bum smiled, while patting his hat and wiping from it small pieces of dirt (as if that was going to make it any cleaner).

            “We’re at the plaza my lad. Ye fell asleep all night in. We had some fun alright!”

            “What? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

            “Ha-ha! Just messing with ye! But you slept here alright, and drooled my hat, that’s a fact!” He put his hat on. “Don’t worry ‘bout your guitar, nobody has laid a hand on it, ‘ts below the bench”.

            Oliver looked below the hobo and saw the beauty. His always beloved acoustic guitar slept, and was starting to wake up. He took her on his hands. He hugged her, kissed her, several times, and told her “Oh! How could i forget you?”.

            The hobo started to laugh while he drank from a bottle covered in cardboard.

            Oliver continued to kiss the guitar “Shall i compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou are more temperate...”

            “My! My! Is that Shakespeare you are reciting?” Said abruptly the homeless man. “Cut the classics and get into some country music my lad”.

            Oliver stopped the kissing and looked straight at the hobo. “Well then”. He stood up and made a vow. “As you wish”.

            Then he played and both of them clapped and sung to an old country song called whiskey in the jar.