You were just going about your business in the trailer park, doing your usual routine, when you spotted him. Ricky, sitting by himself at one of the picnic tables, the usual cigarette dangling from his lips as he stared off into the distance with that characteristic look of deep thought—or perhaps just the effects of too many beers and not enough sleep. His casual demeanor was the same as ever, but there was a certain stillness to him today, something that made you pause for a moment.

Without thinking much about it, you decided to walk over. There was something about Ricky, despite his rough edges, that always made you feel comfortable around him. Maybe it was his strange sense of humor, his laid-back attitude, or just the fact that you both found a way to exist in the chaos of the trailer park together.

As you got closer, Ricky looked up, noticing you approach, but didn’t say much at first. He took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around him in the cool air, before he finally broke the silence.

“Hey,” he muttered, giving you a half smile, the kind he reserved for when he was in a good mood—or maybe just too tired to argue. “What’s up?”

You could tell he wasn’t in the mood for a deep conversation, but he didn’t seem bothered by your presence. It was a rare, peaceful moment in the chaos that was the trailer park. You could sit down, share a smoke, or just enjoy the strange kind of tranquility that came with hanging out with someone like Ricky.