On Friday morning steel gray clouds scudded across the sky and a restless breeze washed over the neighborhood, heralding bad weather to come. Hoping for rain, I ducked into my car and turned the key, then glanced over my shoulder as I sped down the driveway, later for work than usual. Then a thought struck me and I lurched to a stop a few feet from the road. My sunglasses, unnecessary that morning, were still in the house. It may have been too shady for shades, but the sun could break through later, leaving me to squint my way home again at the end of the day. I pulled up the parking brake, unclicked my seat belt, and threw open the door.
At that precise moment, the sprinkler in the front yard sprang into action. After the last cycle the head had come to a stop facing the driveway and now, with no warning, it burst on, hurling morning-cold water at my face, my skirt, the inside of my car. I spluttered, jumped out of my seat, and slammed the door, then sprinted onto our porch and out of range. As time ticked, I paused to wipe the drops from my face and watch the sprinkler sweep across the yard, dousing everything in its path.
I laughed, of course, and shook my head. I had to. It had been that kind of week, every day filled with miniature disasters, every night spent in tense tossing instead of sleep, every email and phone call left unanswered. This Friday morning comedy routine only added to it all with such perfection. I wanted to put it in a novel, down to the promise of rain hovering above the scene as if foreshadowing the whole event. It was, however, too well-timed to be real, too slapstick to be believed, and therefore too weird for fiction.
I can imagine the whole scene, especially on a TGIF morning…Did it rain?
Take care, lots of love. Hope the weekend revived you.
I think we may be secret sisters. That would definitely happen to me.
That was a hilarious scene. I like crazy fiction. BTW, I took your advice and read the fourth book in the Twilight series. Still good, but I didn’t love the ending. Reading Lock & Key now . . .
Thanks, Marilyn! And, yes, things did dry pretty quickly, thank goodness.
Joanne, that would be fun, although I’m afraid it could seem too contrived. I’d have to use it just so.
That’s the funny thing, Carol — not only did it not rain (which would have been the perfect excuse for walking into school already wet) but the sun never came out either!
Glad to know I’m not alone in that kind of luck, Stacy — not that I would wish it on anyone, of course!
Thanks, Susan! And I’m with you on the fourth book, although for different reasons. Nonetheless, I couldn’t leave the series unfinished. As for Lock and Key, I just love Sarah Dessen.
Too weird for fiction? I don’t think so. From my own experience, it’s often a mistake to turn back for whatever you have or THINK you have forgotten. Trying too hard not to be the person who went out and left the iron on, or whose lipstick wasn’t waiting in their bag ready for a post-lunch touch-up — usually backfires. Making you the person who had not left the iron on but is now late for a train because you missed your perfect, traffic time-slot.
Hope things get better this week. 🙂
“…and therefore too weird for fiction.” Yep. Sometimes the truth just won’t work, will it?
What a great attitude you have! And it does sound like a perfect scene for a book. Your imagery is wonderful!
i’d have used it as an excuse to go back to bed. but i’m lazy. 🙂
Probably everything will go perfectly next week.
Mary, that’s a good point. Funny thing was I never could find my sunglasses, so I was late, wet, and still without them! At least the sun didn’t come out.
True, Writtenwyrdd!
Alyssa, it was one of those if-I-don’t-laugh-I’ll-cry situations, and crying would have made my mascara run. 😉
Oh, Virginia, believe me, going back to bed would have been perfect! I was behind on sleep all week — still am!
I do hope so, Barrie! So far it’s been much better.