Thirty minutes from home, raindrops splattered on the windshield of my car and increased in intensity as I drove seventy-six miles per hour along the interstate. I knew the weather was supposed to turn severe later in the evening, but I thought I’d have time to make it back from my dentist appointment hours before any precipitation fell from the sky. The semi-truck ahead of me in the left lane kicked up additional water, so I flicked my wipers to high and focused my eyes on the road.

It’s the same as it is every Wednesday. The writing prompt scrolled on the dry erase board in plain view:

Summer

Fifteen minutes to write what comes to mind – that’s the drill – and at the close the option to share, or be chosen if no one volunteers. 

 Someone always volunteers. 

I met my boss downtown yesterday. She asks me to do that every once in a while. I like her. We’ve known each other for a long time. Shared the trenches on many occasions. She wanted an opinion on an expensive top. I was just getting out of yoga and wanted to go home. But hell, I met her. The top was pretty. “Get it, it’s beautiful,” I told her.