Vermont Writes (and i do too)

so today, February 7, is Vermont Writes Day – a day i neglected to remember until far too late to pre-publicize. but as today winds down, it sounded like too much fun to let it slip by. here’s the deal: you are encouraged to take seven minutes to just write. Vermont Writes gives you a number of prompts, which you can use, or you can free write (you can see the prompts at the link above). for me, i decided to incorporate all of the prompts, because why not. so here is seven minutes of writing:

it was a moment i will never forget. the sun just slipping down, and us, on the side of the road, our right front tire flat, the hay bale cat staring down at us. past the wire fence: the man on the tractor wheeling his way towards us.

“i told you i was worried about the tire pressure,” she had said.

“you did,” i agreed. i had to agree. she was right.

the farmer asked if we needed a hand. no, we told him. we’d call AAA.

the farmer asked if our car was a hybrid. we told him it wasn’t. he suggested we get one. “it’s better for the environment.”

“we know,” we agreed.

“and with the global warming, you’re going to need to pay more attention to that,” he said. “we all are.”

at that moment, the operator picked up. they would send a truck out to help us with the tire, she said. i thanked her. i hung up.

the tractor drove away and we watched him go.

“i’m sorry about the tire,” i said.

“i’ll make sure to check them more regularly,” i said.

and i did for some years after that. but that all changed when the robots came. tire pressure became less of an issue. adapting to our new metallic overlords took a front row seat. and as we polished the elbows of the Great Wesley, we’d look back on that afternoon. the tire flat, the cars speeding by, our eyes towards the hill: it looked like a postcard. like someone had staged it for a postcard. the farmer’s tractor headed towards us, the cows grazing with the red barn behind, the hay bale cat watching us, as though he knew some dreadful secret.

it was perfect. altogether too perfect.




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