Today’s assignment: Go to a local café, park, or public place and report on what you see. Get detailed: leave no nuance behind.
Driving home tonight after a typical day of crazy meetings, broken printer and endless paper work I realized there was no way a local public place was going to be included in my evening. So I did the next best thing: inprovised.
I glanced at the little individual worlds orbiting around my silvery gray Ford Focus. A shiny new BMW with MIKEE 23 plates idled to my right as brake lights reflected red on the wet pavement. The driver must be a “three-peat” Bull’s fan from the 90’s or maybe just a Jordan groupie. The lights flashed from red to green allowing us to continue on our journeys. Strip malls filled with same stores as the last town dot the sides of the four-lane well-traveled road. Dunkin Donuts slips past again – I pass four of them on my way each day. Shell, Kohl’s. Home Run Inn Pizza all flash past my car.
Twists, turns and stop lights later, I burst into my favorite part of my ride. Buildings drop away as single family homes sprout up along my path. I nudge the sound up a bit on my radio, the guys on my favorite radio station are talking about a new documentary on the Manson Family Murders from the 60’s. The details they share take me back to my childhood, then my teen years when I read Helter Skelter. Scary stuff.
The two-story homes in various stages of completion drop behind me, giving way to corn fields and soy beans just starting their summer’s journey to our tables and gas tanks. The sea of deep green of the corn stalks bow and wave to me as the fingers of the wind lifts them in unison. Taking an easy curve before a rainwater filled creak, a mangy coyote lopes across the road as I approach. He disappears in the tangle of tall grasses dancing at the edge of the gravel shoulder. Tiny silver raindrops began falling, the automatic wipers became a slow motion metronome keeping time with the shush of my tires splashing me closer to home. The sweet smell of damp earth wafts in the vents as I roll past the farms and back into the concrete jungle of our town.
The rain has stopped, leaving a shimmering coat on the trees in our neighborhood. The garage door opens with a creek and groan when I poke the blue button above my visor. As I roll into the darkened garage, the satellite radio drops the discussion and my headlights pop on lighting my entrance. I grab my purse and shoes that have been my silent passengers, exiting my capsule I reenter the world.