Half An Hour

The Secret Life Of Hubcaps

Half an Hour

I have given myself 30 minutes to write something. OK, first thing that pops into my head… a guy in a goose suite, maybe it’s a duck, I’m not sure. The kind of farm animal with a white body and yellow bill. Walking on a green grassy hill. The sky is very blue and the clouds are very white and fluffy. There is a split rail fence and sheep milling about in the area.

What I have just written does not connect to anything else in my life. My computer and desk have taken over the dining room table again. My real desk is twenty feet away, clean and ready for action.

Five dogs, three turtles, two birds, a rabbit and a fish are all within the same twenty feet. Nobody moves. I understand the Mexican concept of siesta. It is 4pm and they have all been asleep for an hour. I would like to be asleep, but I have to go to a recording session and have no time for a nap.

Sleep, sLeep, slEep, sleEp, sleeP… sounds wonderful. My ride won’t be here for 25 minutes. Sleep. Maybe just a brief nap: a power nap. Edison did it and look how he turned out. My bed is within 20 feet of me. The rabbit doesn’t care if I nap. None of the dogs would tell. Hhhhmmmm. Sleep.

I guess I didn’t need all 30 minutes to write after all.