Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The garage sale

Today was the day

Mark hudson

It was a crappy, rainy day today in the Chicagoland area. We've had signs of spring but today it was windy and cold. My mother had called the night before and asked if she could come to my church and then bring me to the condo where my sister, niece and nephew would be. so i waited, and it was raining buckets. she was supposed to pick me up at 10:30, so at 10:30 i went down to the front lobby with my cell phone and waited. She came at 10:30 and forgot to bring her cell phone and parked in the back and went up the back stairs and knocked on my door, but I was in the front lobby. i waited in the front lobby, and some lady said, "Another crappy day, huh?' and i said, " Yes." I waited for a half n hour before going in. i missed church and i missed seeing my niece and nephew. the topic of the sermons this month; they are doing a series; 1 is the loneliest number. So i was trapped in my apartment as buckets of rain came down. i read 2 0r 3 magazines before i became restless. I had to get out of the apartment. the rain stopped. i went across the street to the coffee shop. i saw an ad for a garge sale on forest avenue today! i asked the barista where forest avenue was. She said," One block that way.' i went to Forest avenue, but i forgot how long the street was! i walked what must've been a mile to the garage sale. when i got there, there was a garage with stuff, but nobody outside. the radio was tuned to a Christian radio station, yet they had wierd stuff like books on astral projection, and get this, a book called, "How to dominate a man," with a dominant looking woman on the cover. i decided to leave the garage sale because all i saw was junk. I rationalized that i got exercise and fresh air as the wind blew fresh air into my lungs and snots ran down my nose. It was no "quest for the holy grail" but my dad usually says, "Garage sales are bummers.' i wish i had thought of that beforehand. i was so c onvinced i'd find some priceless treasure, and boy was i dissapointed. Now if i can just go home and turn it into a "SOb-story' poem like all these whining poets i read, I'll have a hit on my heads. And i hope you, the reader, find some amusement in this!

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