D-L's Free Write
It's Wednesday in the middle of my freedom. Jason was on a business trip, and Maggie had left for university. My office was closed for a week.
It was just me and the dog Pita (Pain in the ass).
Monday and Tuesday I used to do a mega clean. Things stayed clean with no one to mess them up.
I woke Wednesday morning with birds providing a choir outside. I had considered cleaning the garage. Pita jumped on the bed. He's 15-pounds of who knows what breed.
Wait a minute, I thought. I'm on my own. No meals to cook. I'm free. I showered then shove tooth and hair brushes along with underwear into my backpack.
"Pita, get in the car." He did, and we headed up 93 into the wilds of New Hampshire.
It was between summer tourists and the fall leaf peepers.
At Hampton Beach I walked on the sand. Pita ran up and down. The only other person was a fisherman.
I decided to find a B&B and read until evening when I'd look for a restaurant. I revelled in being totally free until Saturday.
Julia's Free Write
He was at a loss…
On the one hand life was wonderful, full of work, friends, leisure. Activities: on the other these same attributes had him wondering what to do with all that time.
Vacation means having fun, relaxing, doing what one wants – right?
So why after only two days was he floundering? Had he really gotten so into a rut that he could no longer think on his own? What would his long-gone wife had made of this situation?
His older son and family had left for their holidays, so no grandchildren to entertain; his younger son and fiancé had also departed.
His house? Sorted and in shape during the first two days of what he thought of as his vacation. Oh yes, there were photos, letters and files still needing sorting, but of course there always would be. Even the plants were watered, the lawn mowed abd the last game of the Euro played.
Here he was, Wednesday in the middle of his freedom with nothing more to do!
Rick's Free Write
Wednesday, in the middle of my freedom
Sleeping on the floor in the Atlanta airport was not part of the plan. Sleeping on the floor two nights in a row definitely was not.
I had just qualified for a week’s vacation, having worked at the company for a year, and I’d booked the travel package to Florida months ago. Who knew that the earliest hurricane in history would come roaring up the East Coast just after I’d boarded my flight from Omaha to Dallas. I suppose I could have called it off at DFW, as I sat watching the radar of the massive storm Aidan barreling toward the Keys. But there’d be no refund with the budget charter airline, and I couldn’t afford another. Nor would I be granted more time off from work. (I wouldn’t qualify for two weeks until I’d worked there for three years.)
This was my one week of freedom!
So I’d soldiered on to Atlanta on the bumpiest flight imaginable – the flight attendants even refused to provide beverage service. And when I landed at Hartsfield I learned that Aidan had veered west across central Florida, and all flights throughout the Southeast were grounded.
No money for a hotel, though I doubt I could have found an empty room. I wasn’t the only one. All the benches and chairs in the terminal were taken. At least I managed to find a patch of carpet. Which I lost to some burly bearded guy when I went to the toilet.
Maybe there’d be a flight to Tampa later this afternoon, they said. Hey, at least I’m not working, right?
Julia has written and taken photos all her life and loves syncing up with friends. Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/
Rick is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices. com
D-L has had 17 fiction and non fiction books published. Check out her website at: https://dlnelsonwriter.com
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