![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
This morning on my way to work, cruising up a semi-darkened street, I saw a woman growing out of a trash can. I saw her head and a bit of her shoulders peeking above the rim. She was looking straight at me, mildly annoyed that I had caught her growing in such an improbable place. I blinked the dawn out of my eyes -- red mist, dusty skies, and the thinnest gold edge of sun -- and realized that the woman was standing beside the trash can and was not growing out of it as she waited for the bus.
Later, on the way home from work, coasting down the hill to the last light before the right turn that leads to my street, a motorcycle pulled up along side me. We both stopped at the light. I stretched and glanced over to find a bent old man wearing a blue sweatshirt, khaki pants and orthopedic shoes perched comfortably on a fancy, shiny, red motorcycle. As he sped off, I noticed a tiny American flag tucked just over the rear license plate. Old Man Granddaddy looked so serious sitting there in his khakis, helmet and orthopedic shoes with that tiny flag waving at his back.
Later, on the way home from work, coasting down the hill to the last light before the right turn that leads to my street, a motorcycle pulled up along side me. We both stopped at the light. I stretched and glanced over to find a bent old man wearing a blue sweatshirt, khaki pants and orthopedic shoes perched comfortably on a fancy, shiny, red motorcycle. As he sped off, I noticed a tiny American flag tucked just over the rear license plate. Old Man Granddaddy looked so serious sitting there in his khakis, helmet and orthopedic shoes with that tiny flag waving at his back.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 04:03 am (UTC)From:It makes me glad I know you. *clings*
no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 06:10 am (UTC)From:I decided I need to be a little more creative around here. Dust off the original mission statement for the ole LJ and just excercise my writerly muscles. I realized how far afield I've strayed as I was scrolling through all of the reviews I've posted of late. Of books and movies and TV shows. Sadly, I killed off Agatha, my muse in that Twilight fic. I thought it was another Agatha, but I think it was the muse masquerading as my OC. She likes to play dumb games like that. Of course, she could just be sulking that I had the nerve. I guess we'll see ...
Anywho! Observations, observations as poetic as I can make them. Although, that doesn't take alot with my wacky brain and broken eyes. I *really* did think that woman was growing out of a trash can this morning even though my brain knew that couldn't be true. Granddaddy on his bike made me laugh out loud because when I glanced over all that I saw, at first, were his sensible beige orthos. Those ridiculously silly, sturdy, I-mean-business, old man shoes. And then that flag.