A car trip.

It’s morning now and time to head out. We all brush our teeth and pack our things. No one bothers to shower; no one wants to take that much time to do anything, whether from the remnants of alcohol or just laziness.

We all scurry through the rain to the car and wait for Roger to figure out which button unlocks all the doors. It’s the same one he pressed to open his own door. He figures it out.

Roger starts the engine and runs the wipers to clear the windshield of the rain falling from the grey skies. It’s a beautiful day. Rachel puts on a CD and we sing a song to start us off towards home. What was it? We pass Tee Pee Tim’s BBQ and the Star Market, with a star in the place of the ‘a.’

We reach the turnpike and someone screams, “To New Hampshire!” We’re actually headed back home, which is not even close to New Hampshire. But the night before we all promised to take a road trip there and so we will at least pretend to be heading that direction until we get home.

The rain has stopped but the sky is still a wonderful grey.

I look to my right, through a window. Probably the car window. I see an expanse of brown leafless trees with a grey sky backdrop. I notice a blotch of white in the middle of the brown. It’s a plastic bag, one that you would get at Wawa or Wal-Mart. It’s stuck to the top of a tree by one handle, the other is flapping in the wind, letting air fill the bag lso it’s a big plastic puff.

I make an announcement: “I wonder how that bag got there.”

Jack thinks it was the wind.