Hang Your Hat Microfiction

Painting: "Hang Your Head" by Lisa Rae Winant

He could feel the intense heat of the mid afternoon sun beating against his face on the open water. Deciding it was unwise to be at sea in such heat, he followed the rhythmic sound and sway of the ocean waves back to the shore. He felt the sand crunch beneath him as he rode the small, aluminum boat up on to the beach. Grabbing the few fish he had caught, he made his way up the beach towards his home. Although common in most places, the structure stuck out against the otherwise flat landscape. It reminded him of his old home back at the maquiladora, before the earthquake and the famine. He smiled thinking about the long journeys back and forth to the town with a boat full of wood and building supplies. He could not remember the last time he had gone back to the town and couldn’t even recall the last time he had seen other people, besides the occasional fishing vessel that would drift through. He was grateful for this; he chose this spot for this reason. He no longer wanted to be part of society. He no longer had any family, and certainly no friends, and had grown bitter and resentful towards the “development” he had seen in the town of his birth. He looked out at the ocean and thought about the stream that used to run from the maquiladora through the town: thick, green and flowing with rancid garbage. “You don’t need money and you don’t need society” He thought. “You only need a place to hang your hat”.