Tag: car

Roadside Attraction

Yesterday, I went for a long drive. Well, as long a drive as one can have these days in Rhode Island, which is only 30 miles x 60 miles. Yes, the entire state. Right now, if you cross the border into Massachusetts or  Connecticut, both of which are about ten minutes from my house, you are required to quarantine for 14 days. There are officials at the RI borders – airports, highways, train stations – taking license plate numbers, names, and phone numbers, so they can track your compliance.

I get it.

We’re this tiny place between two hot spots: Boston and New York City. Can’t be too careful.

But I needed to see the water. So I drove to Galilee. I stayed in my car except to take these shots.

Dig my homemade mask
Quahogger.

With white-tipped peaks and churning waves, wind blasting and sunlight blinding, even from the car window, Nature made its point. You’re small. I’m big.

Some days that thought would intimidate me, but yesterday, it comforted. So did my car.

Enjoy this (not-so-ironic-anymore) tribute to the vehicle.

–KLB

Strange Faces

I’ve never liked grocery shopping before. I didn’t mind it, but more often than not I would choose to stay home. Now, I’d do anything to walk into a store. 

I drive my mom to physical therapy every week. I don’t go inside the office. Across the parking lot, directly in front of me is a Super 1 Foods. I’ve never liked Super 1 very much. Now, it’s agony to sit in the car and stare at this store. What I wouldn’t give to browse the aisles, to help select our food, to compare prices. 

It’s not just the shopping I want. No, I want to see faces. I’m not quarantined alone–far from it. Home almost seems too full sometimes, with an older brother home from college and three younger siblings. 

No, I’m not separate from the human race. But I’ve always liked to people watch. I like to wonder about each passerby, to give them colorful stories and turn them into mythical creatures. I hunger for that silent companionship that shoppers have when they’re both looking at the same item, or when you have to figure out how to get a cart down a crowded aisle. 

But now, the only strangers that I see are drivers in other cars. It only happens twice a week, and the glimpses last mere seconds.

I, a self proclaimed introvert, am longing to go shopping in the busiest store I can find. I want to spend the whole day in town, doing absolutely nothing. I want to go up and ask anyone and everyone whatever question springs to mind when I see them. 

Insane, I know, but I blame the quarantine.

–Abbi Fisher, https://the-blue-shoe-skidoo.com/