Day 5 of the writing challenge is to write a story about a road trip, fact or fiction, with dialogue as if it’s happening.
The sky was so gray it seemed the sun would never shine again. It match the biting cold. This was the last factory on my schedule. Once I checked in with these guys, I could go home for Christmas. I was eager to get to finish my review and get some shopping done. It wasn’t everyday I was working in the south of France, so champagne, chocolate and china were top on my list.
What wasn’t top on my list the crawling pace of the traffic ahead of me. A few hours outside of Paris and everything had come to a virtual standstill. I was just outside of a small village, a one horse town. Since it was France, maybe a one snail town was more appropriate especially considering the pace. I could have walked faster then we were driving.
I have to say that little silver rental car had one heck of a heater. It wasn’t long before I had to crack the window. I waited semi-patiently my thumb tapping on the steering wheel to the tune on the radio. I heard something strange. Horns, maybe a tuba? It certainly wasn’t in keeping with the French version of pop music playing on the radio.
I turned the radio off, rolled the window down and listened. Drums. Cymbals. It was definitely music. As we crept up to the edge of town, the ten or so shops which made up the business district were decked with tinsel and bells. People lined the streets mostly women and children bundled against the cold. Some cameras flashed.
What was going on?
I leaned out of the window to catch a glimpse of the traffic ahead as the road curved to the left. Ahead of me I glimpsed a marching band, a fire truck and several fancy cars. That’s when I realized I was in the middle of the town’s Christmas parade.
I smiled and waved as people snapped my picture. Later they probably asked each other, “Who was that woman in the silver car?”
I like to thing the reply was, “A visiting dignitary, of course.”
