The first time I saw a “Jesus, take the wheel” bumper sticker, it made me nuts.
Oh for crap’s sake. No. NO. Do not, under any circumstances, assume Jesus is operating your motherfucking vehicle.
I wrote this last Spring and then just kind of looked at it for months. I hope you like it.
I sat on my deck perched on the edge of a chair. Rainy days mean soaked cushions. I had to choose between a wet ass or balancing on the metal frame.
Spring had reached the adolescence of it’s life, but still felt like a baby. The air was warm, but the bite of winter remained in the breeze. I listened to the sounds of the afternoon. I faced the thrum of interstate traffic from a couple miles away. Behind me, I could hear a train rumbling on the tracks a few streets over.
I heard a girl scream.