6 Sep

We’re driving down a road one fall morning, my father and I. Our occasional jaunts into the county, mentioned in passing by me as a good idea, a nice time. If caught in the right mood, my father would agree, grab his cigarettes, and off we would go.

We slow down as we come into a small hamlet whose name escapes me now. A small white clapboard church is inches from the road,  barely a sidewalk. Leaves scatter on the ground, the cold almost frozen sense to the air as we stare blankly from the windows, each in our own little space, reaching out now and again to light a cigarette or mumble about the beauty the older houses held.

Never a word for my mother mind you, that we couldn’t spare.

We drive up into the forest, spend time marvelling at the quiet loveliness that sat only a short drive from our house. We turn a corner and standing, snuffling the ground is a doe. She slowly raises her head to look at us-she’s the color of caramel. Suddenly she starts and bolts, off into the woods. For a moment, time held itself for us. Neither my father nor I speak until the deer is gone. Even then, we exchange a look before talking.

4 Responses to “Headlights”

  1. nell September 6, 2007 at 10:39 pm #

    Magic! I love it.

  2. Eden September 6, 2007 at 11:54 pm #

    Submit this somewhere as flash or CNF. Ooh! I know! Send it to Brevity!

  3. thordora September 7, 2007 at 7:28 am #

    wth is Brevity?

  4. thordora September 7, 2007 at 7:42 am #

    now I see. Checked Brevity-their next submissions are hot/cold-not something like this.

    I never knew flash fiction existed. it’s SOOOo time to go back to school.

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