Semi-Daily Scribbles

Previously…

And was that pickup ever loaded down. Tail pipe scraped the driveway as Darla eased into the car-lined side street. It was early. Pinkish clouds punctured the slate-grey sky. Darla's wet tangle of curls was gathered at the back of her head with the thick blue elastic that held together last night's broccoli. Her mind buzzed with all the to-do's to get Boothby operational. She'd laid everything out the night before and drew up a diagram for efficient set-up of her 12’ X 20’ space. What began as therapy became Darla's bread and butter. Funny how silly sketches in crayon could turn someone's life around. Darla maintained a tight grip on the wheel and drove ten miles below the speed limit. She kept to the surface roads which made for a snaky, roundabout trip to the Prairie View but Darla didn't mind. She left with plenty of time to spare. Safety first. Many hours of work were covered in bungeed blue tarp and that was reason enough to take it easy out on the road. Darla checked the truck's bed in the rear-view mirror while stopped to wait for the light to turn green at the intersection of 75th and Howell. The blue mountain hadn't shifted an inch. The light was still red. Darla looked in the mirror at her slightly shiny face and frowned at her souvenir. The brownish-pink pucker of skin on her cheek, unlike the crafts in the back of the pickup, was hard to keep covered. Makeup only accentuated her check mark with the extra long tail. That cheek drew lots of attention, some of which Darla even welcomed. Like Ort's. As traffic once more moved through the intersection, Darla stepped on the gas with increased vigor.