A Nice Day for a Drive

Nice Day for a Drive


“A nice day for a drive.” Mary looked at Bill. No answer from his side of the car.

“I repeat, nice day for a drive.” This time a little louder.

Bill ignored her. He took a sip from the brown cup, grimaced. The coffee was cold. Almost there.

“Are you ignoring me?”

‘Do bears poop in the woods?’ Bill thought.

Mary looked out the window. Nothing to see. Just bare open plain, sage grass, a coulee, some buttes every now and then. A long dirt road stretching ahead of the windshield.

Then the car stopped. Bill got out, walked to the passenger’s door. He grabbed Mary’s arm, pulled her out to the road.

“We’re here.”

They walked a few feet further, in front of the car.

“Where exactly is here? There’s nothing to see.” Mary turned round and round, then back to Bill.

Bill shot her in the head. “Now there’s something to see.” He walked back to the car, turned it around, headed back the way he came.

“Darn, I hate it when the coffee is cold.”