that's what it's doing all right..and there's a story I wanted to write which I should practice on here...it was a f unny one, am getting this vague recollection of what is whas, ahh..the four knock corner, that's what it was..
I was on an ambulance call in the rain last night, we went way past the four knock corner and we got to stand at either end of the site with our stop/slow signs directing traffic, staying in touch by ambulance...
in order to distract myself because I worry unbearably on the way to the scene about what grisly evidence may be there in terms of human anguish...luckily this was not one of those times although the rain never let up and Norm was his usual peevish self...nag nag nag...like we don't hop and skip and jump fast enough for that motherfucker...hehe..
anyways, as we were rounding the four knock corner up from where the Merrill Ring tree farm offices are located, I recalled that I need to write a story for writers' group about the four knock corner and why I call it that...
it happened maybe twenty-twenty five years ago...we had been in Port Angeles, we were still riding around in the big old 1979 cougar...I'd had the top recovered in fake alligator vinyl because it leaked...I'd tried to decoupage Queen Latifa pictures on the inner ceiling, didn't work, but it was a wide and comfortable ride
I was on an ambulance call in the rain last night, we went way past the four knock corner and we got to stand at either end of the site with our stop/slow signs directing traffic, staying in touch by ambulance...
in order to distract myself because I worry unbearably on the way to the scene about what grisly evidence may be there in terms of human anguish...luckily this was not one of those times although the rain never let up and Norm was his usual peevish self...nag nag nag...like we don't hop and skip and jump fast enough for that motherfucker...hehe..
anyways, as we were rounding the four knock corner up from where the Merrill Ring tree farm offices are located, I recalled that I need to write a story for writers' group about the four knock corner and why I call it that...
it happened maybe twenty-twenty five years ago...we had been in Port Angeles, we were still riding around in the big old 1979 cougar...I'd had the top recovered in fake alligator vinyl because it leaked...I'd tried to decoupage Queen Latifa pictures on the inner ceiling, didn't work, but it was a wide and comfortable ride
No comments:
Post a Comment