I went on a long walk today to clear my head since I knew I would be challenged to complete the Stream of Consciousness prompt later. I was in deep thought about some inconsequential matter, like should I powerwash the driveway. Then, all of a sudden, my attention was snapped to fully aware as I heard someone screaming, “Help me.”
My gaze went to a rather large brown van that was caroming off what is now a collapsed lamppost. The post altered the vector of the van so that now it was headed directly for me. As it got closer and larger, I could see a wide-eyed, uniformed driver clutching the wheel and screaming his head off. This was clearly a delivery van out of control, and not wishing to find myself the thickness of a pancake, I managed to jump to the right and grab what some would say is a sissy bar connected to the driver’s side of the van.
The three of us continued down the street, which was now taking on the topography of a soapbox racer course. I swung into the van and asked the driver if I could be of some help. “No brakes,” he yelled. For the first time since seeing this run-a-way train, I grew concerned. The law of physics dictates that the vehicle velocity will continue to increase until such time as a deceleration event occurs. The speed at the point of deceleration will mean the difference between survival or not. “We need to slow this mother down,” I yelled. The driver looked at me with an expression I have seen on countless teenagers’ faces before the “No shit” statement.
Long story short, the van did indeed slow down by jumping a curb and tearing through several layers of shrubs, fencing, and into the Donavan’s pool. As we were sinking, the driver asked me my name and then handed me an envelope. Of course, it was from Linda Hill. As the water was reaching my chest, I tore it open and read the note. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “the last photo you took.”Take the last photo you snapped. What’s the first word that comes to mind when you look at it? That word is your prompt. Enjoy!
As the water rose to my chin, I thought about that last photo and remembered it was of Twiggy and Lucy. The word “cute” went through my mind, and the darkness crept into my consciousness.
“Stand up,” I heard from the edge of eternity. I opened my eyes and did indeed stand up to find I was in water up to my waist. “We are saved,” I screamed. The driver had nothing to say.
If you would like to enjoy visit Linda Hill’s blog and read how. Here is the link.
Cute by John W. Howell © 2021
“What’s with all the drama?”
“I just think people ought to know where the prompts come from, is all.”
“Other participants just do the prompt without the preamble upfront.”
“Maybe you ought to go talk to other participants.”
“What do you mean.”
“Your snappy comeback was cute.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Well, that’s new.”
“Cute again. So what are you going to write about that’s cute?”
“What do you mean ‘nothing?'”
“I think you said it all.”
“I don’t get no satisfaction.”
“Cute reference. Want to explain?”
“I kill myself thinking of the prompt, and you come along and make light of what I do.”
“How much do you get paid for this gig?”
“The prosecution rests. It is beer-thirty now. Do you want to continue this philosophical discussion or dump six into that ready-made receptacle?”
“You have a cute way of making my choice easy.”
“Hold on, brother. Don’t use the word ‘cute’ when describing my behavior.”
“Goodness. Hit a nerve, did I?”
“I have the street cred to maintain. We doing beer or not?”
“Lead on Mac Duff.”