Write something that takes place in: the parking lot.
Car repairs were completed without issue, errands were accomplished with minimal hiccups, and got home in time to shave before picture time.
Indeed. Some friends of ours here in town are photographers (mostly weddings) and we agreed to an exchange of babysitting (and produce) for some family pictures. The husband came over just before dinner and we did some shots around the walnut tree in our front yard before going out into the autumn colours of the apricot trees for the rest of the shoot.
I'm pretty excited to see how they turn out, as we've never done any professional photos with Max. I'll be sure to share a few once we get a hold of them.
I study the underside of the red sedan with little interest, despite the fact that I've never been beneath a car before now. It is kind of neat, I suppose, seeing how things connect. Where certain liquids are contained until they are used up or replaced. If I were to dredge up some imagination it wouldn't be difficult to picture how things would look if the vehicle was in motion.
But I can't be bothered with that right now. Sorry, I guess. I've got other things on my mind.
Like listening to voices drawing closer and then blessedly moving further away. Like watching running shoes of varying colour, boots of fixed colour (black, always and forever black), and heels in the genre of Too Tall To Be Practical crisscrossing the parking lot. Hidden at regular intervals by tires and lampposts while my heart pounds louder than all of their footsteps combined.
They are searching for me. They have been for quite some time. They must give up soon.