Thursday, June 3, 2010


I cringed as they pulled the moving van into the driveway next door. The van sputtered to a stop, black smoke billowing from the tail pipe. My cough rose harshly from my throat which convulsed from the fumes. Tears directed themselves over the smooth terrain of my face. I blamed them on the still lingering fumes, but a mixture of shame and pity could have easily been applied as well. The family piled from the front seat of the van. The children were lanky and grubby, their arms and legs showing the scabs and scars from mosquito bites. A woman climbed out after the children. Her mud colored hair fell in long greasy strips over her shoulders and to her bottom. The tye-dyes dress had faded, making her skin look almost ghostly. I looked for the driver, he was standing on the other side of the hood, his blonde hair pulled back in a pony-tail at the base of his neck. He smiled at me revealing two missing teeth.

I waved back weakly. My tongue had become an island floating on the distaste swirling in my mouth. Quickly, I turned off the new nozzle the gardening club had bought me as a reward for my hard work as president. I smoothed over the few water droplets that had fallen on my linen pants in my haste and walked into my home, closing the door and locking it behind me. I continued to watch the new neighbors from the safety of my garage.

The carried worn out dressers, tattered furniture, bags and boxes haphazardly packed into the van. Pot and pans clattered in the driveway and were kicked up the walk by the children. The man and wife laughed gaily, hugging and kissing every time their hands were freed of their junk. I shuddered at the show of affection and obvious poor care of their belongings. In my air conditioned garage, I grew irritable at the riff-raff that were moving into my previously pristine neighborhood.

Something would have to be done. I walked back into the house and poured a large glass of lemonade, adding a shot or tow of alcohol to calm myself. I called all of my friends to report the horrible news, each one taking pity on me. None of them had any ideas on how to encourage the new neighbors to leave though. I gritted my teeth and realized that I was in for a war, not a battle.

*** Imagination Prompt Generator ***


  1. "My tongue had become an island floating on the distaste swirling in my mouth."

    Loved that description. The whole thing was great, but that line just jumped out at me :)

  2. I see a southern novel coming out of this. That might mean some research lets road trip. Here is the post that made me think we need a road trip.

  3. Marc- I loved that line too. Made me want to scrap the rest of the story and start over. I think that would be called editing though and therefore a cheat for the purpose of this site.

    Vicki- I'm always up for a good road trip. I don't need an excuse. So, shall we set a date?

  4. See since it is now 20 days since you replied to my response and I am only just replying. we should look at September.