Things Go Better With Milk



What a Twist!

Tell us a story

— fiction or non-fiction —

with a twist we can’t see coming.

The party is in three hours and I have yet to put the icing on the cake.

I rushed to the car pushing my filled-to-the-brim cart.

I quickly the set the gallon of milk on the roof of our old station wagon and stuffed the rest of the groceries onto the back seat. Hooking Jed, Jr. into his car seat I returned the cart to the rack next to me.

Why can’t Jed remember to read the entire grocery list?

I slammed the door shut and dived behind the wheel.

Fumbling with the keys, I finally got the car started only to stall it.

Blast this manual. If Jed had not needed the new car…

Looking both ways, I pulled into the traffic to head home.

Instantly, there was a police car in my rear view mirror.

I’m sure I stopped at the intersection, I just didn’t notice him.

I slowed down automatically to make sure I maintained that proper speed here headed to my residential subdivision.

Just three more lefts and I’m home. Please don’t pull me over here. Everyone I know lives here.

I turn left. Just four more blocks. The car is still behind me.

We never have patrol cars in our neighborhood. Not in the middle of the day.

Coming to a complete stop on my next left, I notice. he has turned his lights on. I pull right as far as possible to allow him to pass me.

No! He is stopping behind me. The neighbors?

He slowly walks up to my car and politely knocks on my window,

I embarrassingly roll it down.

“Yes, officer?”

“Madam, did you happen to purchases milk at the Save-A-Lot?”

What, Why did he want to know my grocery list.

“I just thought I would stop you before it falls off the roof of your car. I thought you might need it for the little ones when you get home.”

He reaches over the roof and hands me my gallon of milk though the window.

“Thank you so much, sir.” I manage to reply. I’m sure my face is four-times red!

“You’re welcome, Madam. Have a nice day.”

As I pull back into the thoroughfare, just seven houses from mine…. I see Joan Herring and Amelia Johnson both peering out of their front windows.

Boy, this will be the talk of the party.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “What a Twist!.”

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