Sleep, oh sleep. How fabulous you make the world. That’s right I actually got a very good night’s sleep last night. It was glorious! The dense fog that has filled my brain i gone and I feel fantastic and ready to face the day. Which isn’t my usual morning state of mind but today I am going for it. So lets get started with a morning writing prompt. Ready? Then set those timers to ticking!
Well that was fun. Sometimes I really like the short prompts that give no real direction. The problem is that just as I am starting to write myself into a story with them, the timer goes off. With the longer prompts it is easier to kickstart myself into the middle of a story. Both are good, they are just different. It’s nice to have a mix. At least that is my take.
Tuesday, July 13th: The bag was heavy.
The bag was heavy. It bulged at the sides and I wondered if I would be able to get it into the truck without the sides splitting. I could see the stretchy bits they added to garbage bags so that things like cereal box corners wouldn’t poke through stretched to capacity. I thought about going back into the house and getting a second bag to double up the protection for the contents. It would be the smart thing to do. I started to turn and then remembered that we didn’t have any more bags. This was the last of them.
“You’ll just have to do,,” I told it. I gathered the gathered top. It was too heavy to carry by the plastic tie strings. Attempting to do so would just spell disaster for everyone. I braced myself and used one hand to support the bottom of the bag as I carried it. While the bottom of the bag was clean and dry something inside was squishy.
“It’s better squishy through the bag then splatted out onto the ground.” I reminded myself, forcing my hand to remain in the support position. I tried not to think about the squishy bits as I hurried my steps.
Snow was piled high on either side of the pathway. The pathway was the width of the snow shovel and narrower than the actual walkway. The actual walk way curved delicately through the yard creating a path from curb to house. Whoever plowed this path simply moved in a straight line, missing the curves. My steps went from icy concrete to frozen ground and back to concrete. Because the path ended up at the steps, I ended at concrete.
The bag remained intact and I tried not to move my support hand too much. The stairs had been dusted with ice melting pellets and the pellets had done their job well. I stepped carefully down them but felt no crackly of ice beneath my boots. The small section of sidewalk I had to cross as my last hurdle before the final disposal was less clear. Ice cracked at the edges but held firm in other places causing my feet to slip. I slowed my steps and placed each foot carefully, not wanting to fumble at the finish line.
I held my breath but then I was through and stepping into the snow covered grass separating the sidewalk from the street. My feet firmly placed in the strip of snow I lifted the bag into the back of the dump truck serving as our garbage disposal vehicle.
It was actually a garbage truck belonging to a removal service and had an open panel in the back for trash to be loaded in. As my bag was deposited and I was able to let go, I felt the tension leave my body. I wiped my hands on my jeans and looked into the truck. It was filled with bags and would soon need to trundle away.
In reality it could probably take more trash, but we had no more bags. Pleased my bag made it safely to the truck I retraced my steps back to the house. Once back at the door I stomped my feet to get rid of any remaining snow clumps clinging to my feet and then stepped into the house, wiping my feet on the already somewhat sodden door mat.
Ten til Midnight 