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Writer's pictureAleah Parsons

White Pick up Truck

I close my eyes while I ride in the white pickup truck. My otherwise stiff afro blowing in the strong wind. The wind, she dares to move my coarse hair and I Love her for it. My hand outstretched through the window moving in a wave like motion with the breeze. My eyes closed as I breathe in the summer air. “Harder” I tell the wind “Blow harder.” I can’t see you, but I can feel you moving with my hands as they dance with you, coursing through my hair as she fails to withstand your power. Someone’s driving this white pickup truck but there not important right now. Its just me and the summer air.

A white pickup truck is passing by me. I notice a girl in the passenger's seat. Her eyes are closed, and her hand is outstretched through the window. She looks happy. I’m sitting on a park swing so I stretch my neck to see who’s driving the pickup truck. As I do this I fall out of the swing. I get up and dust myself off. I look up to check on the pickup truck, but it's gone. With it the girl and her afro. I decide to walk home and as I'm walking I daydream about her. I imagine what her life is like. Where she lives and why she seems so in love with the wind. I stop walking and close my eyes. I’m listening to the wind. Trying to figure out what I’ve been missing.

I’m on the jungle gym watching the same boy sit on the same park swing. He does this every day and I'm on the jungle gym every day. He’s always looking out into the street. If he would just turn around, he would see that I'm right behind him. He never talks and I don’t either. I prefer it this way because if he talks then I’ll know what his voice sounds like. I’ll also notice his facial expressions; I’ll learn his smile the way he walks and what his footsteps sound like. We don’t need any of that, so I stay where I'm at comfortable hanging on my jungle gym. The wind starts to blow, and I close my eyes to take it in. When I open my eyes, he’s gone.

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