apropos of nothing
December 09, 2006
Christmas in July
I have been in the car for 13 seconds. He hands me a brown paper bag.
“Don’t open it yet.”
I nod. Smile. I never know where he is going but I am always along for the ride.
It’s a sunny day. Hot and blue. Just the sort convertibles are made for.
He drives a touch too fast on the ocean road. It’s windy and hilly and I am a fan of a touch too fast.
At the top of the next hill he tells me to open the bag. Inside are a thousand scraps of paper, each with the word caution handwritten in ink.
Now he smiles.
“Go ahead. Throw caution to the wind.”
I throw handful after handful. They spiral up and away.
He hits the accelerator and we leave caution in our dust.
~
Cinematic moments. He’s a fan of them. A collector and a creator.
I could use one. One worthy of popcorn, a soundtrack, and slow motion. Now.
Posted by sasha
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