Writing at the Traffic Lights

Writing at the Traffic Lights

An ultra short
short story
Written literally in the breaks, between the breaks in the traffic
When all stops
Except my mind

My trusted vessel carries me safely
I call her ‘Quicksilver’
She is a one tonne utility
We navigate skillfully
Delivering one load after another
Driving in circles
Together we have survived many a scrape.
She works hard
Often carrying her capacity and sometimes more.

Together Quicksilver and I roam the streets and highways of the city of Perth
We are never bored
Never still for longer than it takes a light to change from red to green

An idea pops into my mind
And I reach for my notepad
Amongst the debris of lunch boxes
Coffee cups
Paperwork
Soon to be delivered parcels.
I fumble
I find it
The lights change
A horn behind us sounds…
I engage the clutch with pen still between my fingers
Pressed against the steering wheel
Praying that I might remember the thought at the next stop

The monster of time is ever against us

We deliver our load
Then on again to the next stop
Time after time
Parcel after parcel
Notepad ever on my knee
We pull up at another set of lights

What was that idea? 
It returns to me
I jot it down illegibly as the elusive ruby turns emerald above us
We move out once again

Our final load for the day is delivered and we find a place in the freeway queue to edge our way home

Tonight I will transcribe the events of the day
Our greatest story ever
An ultra short
Short story
Written in the breaks between the breaks in the traffic
When all stops
except my mind


word count: 289 words