White. Out.
There I was, in my little
car, driving out of the city
seeing the trees and
the sky and the ground
all of it white.
And suddenly, driving a car
seemed so
out of place.
I swerved to avoid some rock
or something, and spun
and screamed, and grabbed on
and breathed deeply,
after missing that ditch.
Slowing to a halt
my heart still beating
fast, I thought
"this world was not
designed to be driven through."
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4 comments:
Nursing my littlest one, I sat in the back of my minivan and watched my three happily wild boys as they zoomed down the hill on their beat up sleds. As I listened to my baby make those contented little sounds as she nursed, I found such peace from the beautiful image right in front of my eyes. The sunlight seemed to dance from one crystallized branch to another on that cold January afternoon. Watching all the laughing kids in this heavenly landscape, my heart warmed to think that this could really be a haven for angels.
White. Out.
There I was, in my little
car, driving out of the city
seeing the trees and
the sky and the ground
all of it white.
And suddenly, driving a car
seemed so
out of place.
I swerved to avoid some rock
or something, and spun
and screamed, and grabbed on
and breathed deeply,
after missing that ditch.
Slowing to a halt
my heart still beating
fast, I thought
"this world was not
designed to be driven through."
Beautiful beautiful shot, Aspen.
Also, who says stories have to be in prose? ;)
Well said, Kate. There are no limits to your creativity when you write!
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