Fauntleroy and June

The day was hot. American flags rippled in front of all the brick houses on the block. Except his.
Man was sitting in his lounge chair on the front porch. There wasn’t a sound in the air. No people anywhere to be seen. No cars. No sirens. Just hot. A hot day.
Man sat there. Saying nothing, Doing nothing,. Thinking nothing. Man took a swig of his beer.
Man heard the sound. The sound of thumps. A series of quick thumps. Low thumps. Like the ground was coming alive.
Thumps got louder.
Man looked down the street.
Thumps got even louder.
Man took another swig.
Two ostriches, running side by side, tore down the middle of the street in front of the house and disappeared down the other end of the lane... the thumps getting softer... and softer... and softer.
Flies got to buzzing. Man halfheartedly swatted them away.
Man sat there, then looked up and down the block. Didn’t see anyone, anywhere.
Man leaned back, reached in his top pocket for the prescription bottle. Man opened the bottle and doled one out. Threw it back and chased it with a swig of beer.
Man thought to himself, “Things are looking up.”