“Was That Turn Left, Swing Right?”


Enamored by big machines since three, my sandbox had them all. Tonka Toy Heaven: the Mighty Backhoe, the Road Grader, the Front Loader, and even the Steel Crane.

As a teen, I had coerced my way into building sites finagling a chance to operate the real things. My powers of persuasion were unlimited.

Now, as an adult, I had moved on to the larger vehicles.

A few bucks under-the-counter allowed me to drive huge Caterpillars. I had donated money to the Special Warriors foundations so that I could drive the Army’s Ontos M50A1. I had even fired the 50-caliber rifles that were attached.

Instead of mounted trophies- moose and elk- on my man-cave walls, I had snapshots of my military conquests.

Today, I saw the makings of a dream yet fulfilled. I had never operated the dreaded wrecking ball.

Upon entering the construction lot, I knew I was a champ. The foreman was alone. He was amicable for a quick buck.

There were two derelict buildings remaining. They had been used for storage beside of the new parking deck.

For a whimsical $500, their demise was mine!

How could a turn left, and a swing right, have such devastating consequences?

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction. Requirements: Using the photo provided, create a flash of approximately 200 words.

13 thoughts on ““Was That Turn Left, Swing Right?”

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