Perfect Little Life
A Prose Poem

I drive down Main Street with the windows down and the cool spring breeze blowing my hair in a thousand different directions. It's days like this that the car was invented for. I glance in the mirror. There's no way I'll be able to tame this wild mop today. I think of all the tasks of the day that lie ahead of me. I sigh, already exhausted at the thought. Maybe I'll call in sick today. It seems like such a waste to stay indoors on such a sunny day. Are those rain clouds in the distance? Oh, well. If it rains it rains. For now I'll enjoy the heat of the sun shining on my jeans as I drive through town. Maybe I'll spend the day at the beach. If it doesn't rain of course. I turn the key and pull it out of the ignition. I sigh once again as I stare up at the giant building in front of me. Another wasted day, another missed opportunity. I grab my purse and walk in. The workday begins.

Back to Poetry