And They Rode Off into the Sunset

Karen squeaked as her iPod slipped from her hands and fell into the black hole somewhere between the passenger seat and the door of their convertible. She fumbled with the aux cord a moment longer before tucking it under her leg while she fished beside the seat. 

Timothy opened his mouth to ask what on earth she was doing, but the question went completely out of his head when the right rear tire popped with a loud bang. The wheel jerked in his hands, and he cringed as he saw Karen’s head strike the door out of the corner of his eye. He quickly regained control of the car and slowed to a stop on the shoulder. 

She came up wincing and checked for blood with the palm of her hand before lightly probing her tender scalp with her fingertips. 

“Are you okay?” asked Timothy, concern evident in his tone. 

“I’m alright,” Karen answered, with one more quick check of her fingertips to make sure they were free of blood. “What happened?”

Timothy shook his head. “Blowout,” he answered. “I guess I must have run something over, but I didn’t see anything.” He shrugged. “I’m glad you’re okay, though.”

Karen opened her door just a hair and leaned over to pick up her iPod from the floor next to the seat. “At least you can have music while you change it,” she offered Timothy. She plugged it in and hit shuffle. 

Timothy made a resigned grumble in the back of his mouth and got out to assess the damage. Nothing was bent or broken, and he whistled along to David Guetta as he uneventfully changed the tire. In next to no time at all, he was back behind the wheel, and they were on the road again, driving through the desert on their way to adventure. 

When the sheriff passed by the spot a few minutes later, the only thing to mark their stop was a few footprints on the dust just off the shoulder. 


A third version of this and this


Travel Adventures

Today we drove to Dallas to spend half the night before getting up at 330am for our flight to Denver. 


On the way, the front passenger tire got an egg on the tread, so it was either go get a tire today or wait until we were ready to go home next week. 

We went today. And were told the wait would be about two hours. 

But while we were waiting, an old friend of mine and his family took us out to dinner at a Mediterranean buffet, which was delicious. 

So that was nice. 

When we got back to the hotel we went swimming for a bit, and learned that 90° is pretty chilly when you’re used to 50% humidity. 

I’m going to freeze my butt off in Denver. 

Which is why we brought jackets and pants. 

And now for a bit of a nap before dealing with TSA and my mother in a wheelchair. 


Sharp Tones for a Flat

Karen kicked her dry, dusty feet up and out, onto the side mirror of the convertible. The wind was hot; it turned her long hair into a massive rat’s nest, but for once, she didn’t care. The sun glinted off her dark glasses as she gazed out toward the horizon, trying to guess how many miles she could see. She wondered how close to reality fifty was.

Timothy drove confidently, hands at ten and two when he wasn’t pushing buttons on the radio, trying to find a station they could listen to for more than ten minutes without losing the signal. The pursuit was in vain. They were just too far into the middle of nowhere. He snapped it off, and Karen turned her head to look, a questioning eyebrow raised.

“Nothing to listen to,” he said.

The wheel jerked in Timothy’s hands as a loud bang assaulted their ears. Timothy groaned, knowing they’d just had a blowout. When he pulled the spare out and dropped it on the shoulder, he knew they were in trouble. It was flat as a pancake.

“We haven’t seen anyone else on the road in forever, babe,” Karen pointed out. “Who knows how long we’ll have to wait for help, with no signal and no spare? Whose idea was this trip, anyway?”

“You know we agreed on it, Karen. And we’ll be just fine. We have plenty of food and water, and you know this won’t be the first time we’ve slept in the car,” Timothy replied, a little testily.

Karen winked at him. “I’m just picking on you. I know we’ll enjoy this trip even if we sit right here four days, and have to turn right around and go home when we finally do get a tire.”

They only had to wait 23 minutes for a sheriff with a pump, and since air was all they needed, they were back on the road in a jiffy.


This mission was practically impossible for me. Only 300 words? Argh. Steps 1 and 2 complete!