Driving with the windows down and breeze in your hair sounds like a perfect, summery thing to do unless the inside of your minivan is a toasty 101°F. Then the open window is as vital as breath. My minivan was so hot today that I felt as if I was riding a fireball along I-15 with a trail of vapor and smoke behind me.
So why didn't I put on the air conditioner?
I'm still in between jobs and trying to stretch the miles I get per gallon. The furnace on wheels was a necessary evil, though it fried my brain.
Today's errand was whisking my Leprechaun across the valley to have her braces tightened. I found a couch by a window down the hall and around the corner. It's normally a busy corner to camp out in because it is right by the elevator, but most people had the good sense to stay indoors today, so the hallway was silent and untravelled.
I used my TrueHDR app to take a picture of the indoors and the outdoors and sent a tweet out into the world, then got busy thinking about the next phase of my ADHD book. Braces tightened, the future set, we climbed back into minivan. The trip back in the furnace did me in, however. I was a pile of molten goo by the time I made it back to my apartment. It's taken me several hours to recover. I'm going to need to load up on Slurpees next time I take that fireball for another ride.
Now it is time to write and write and write. To jumpstart my noodle I am going to base today's creative writing exercise on the photo I took. Who's looking out the window and what are they thinking? Yes, yes. Let's pretend it's not me:
Amanda liked to taunt me. She delighted in it really. She had moved the fake tree in the day after I was confined to this room, laughing the whole time. Now every time I looked out to see the trees, I had to look past Amanda's gift. It hung over me while I was trapped here in bed, everything bound and wrapped. Even my mouth was in traction.
Mother had tried to soothe me. "Jennika, darling. Amanda is just trying to help you feel comfortable. You mustn't fuss so." Of course Mother would think that. Amanda could do no wrong. I didn't have the energy to argue with her. I didn't have the jaw movement, either.
Mother simply didn't understand that the tree was not meant to make me feel comfortable. It was the very tree I had hid behind when watching Amanda kiss my boyfriend. At least when Kincade noticed me he had the decency to look embarrassed, but Amanda just laughed. It tinkled in that musical way I used to envy, but today it felt like shards of broken glass in my heart. Then I ran. I pushed over the tree, then I pushed past people, doors, and bicyclists. I'd have pushed past the car if it hadn't been so much heavier than me.
Leave your writing exercise below.
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