driving to the grocery pick-up
(after the doctor’s appointment)
I turn into the parking lot and
keep watch in all directions because
this parking lot is governed
by the laws of I’m Busier Than You.
ahead, there is an orange traffic cone.
it’s beaten down, but not beaten.
it’s soiled but still alarm-inducing orange.
I drive towards it.
towards danger.
at the base of the cone
is a pothole
at least four feet long.
in the pothole is pool of rust water
and the crude remains
of the cone’s cousin:
a wooden barricade.
it’s splinters and ruins.
a discarded medical mask
tumbles past and is
(appropriately)
claimed by caution’s open grave.
i love your writing
Parking lots are one of the most hazardous places to drive. You need to have your head on a swivel to watch for drivers who ignore the painted parking stall lines and just cut across the lot to get from point A to point B in a straight line.