House of Sternberg: HOUSE OF STERNBERG
This assignment was given at a writer’s group. Working with six to seven words having to do with the sea and sailing, we were then given fifteen minutes to use those words in something that nothing to do with the sea and sailing.
ROADKILL by stewart sternberg
At seventy five miles per hour his mind drifted and he imagined the weight of a parrot on his shoulder. He automatically ruddered from one lane to the other and clapped a hand over one eye.
"Are ye mad?" he asked out loud, yanking his mouth up on one side and growling. "Harr, harr."
At ninety miles per hour the parrot answered him. "Where ye be goin’ thar, Jack?"
Jack looked ahead at the pavement, rising and falling like waves. The question took away the fun and the weight of the parrot on his shoulder became the weight of despair. It crested.
He was crying now, imagining the lightness of his passing. He blocked out the truth; it didn’t count anymore. Nothing outside this car mattered.
At one hundred miles per hour a police car dropped in behind him.
"We’re about to be boarded!" he yelled raucously.
"Where are ye going, Jack?" asked the parrot.
"There," he cried. "There’s me treasure and X marks the spot."
Saying that, he sharply spun the wheel and turned into the concrete divider.