Truckin’

She was in luck; the rain held off long enough for her to put the last piece of furniture into the truck. There was a saying in Otterville, “the weather was like a woman: it changes its mind every minute.” She could say the same thing about her ex. Now there was a chapter in her life she didn’t want changing.

The awkwardly large keys fit all too well into the ignition. It was worn with excessive use. People probably like her, she thought, eager to start a new life somewhere else. A flick of the wrist made the diesel engine come to life and chatter like a hand mixer on the side of a ceramic bowl. This batter would be far sweeter.

Within no time, she was out on the road. The grey sky gave some secrecy to her escape, like a blanket hiding a child from a closet monster. Serena’s monster doesn’t move, it just fades from the skyline the further anyone goes in a single direction.

“I’m not sure where I’m going,” she conceded as she lit her cigarette. She thought real hard for a moment of what the next step would be. Time didn’t allow her to plan that far ahead. As if the divine could read her thoughts, a break in the clouds appeared in the southwest. Sunlight pieced the greyness that seemed to envelop the entire town. “I can take a hint,” she said with a puff and banked the moving truck on to the interstate.

A sign off the side of the road read “Now Leaving Otterville.”

“Not soon enough,” she replied and tuned into a country station playing Johnny Cash.

© 2013 by Corvidae in the Fields, all rights reserved

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