Jenny Allen: Essay # 5

Isn’t it strange? You start out life counting the people you didn’t want at your birthday party, and you end it counting the ones you don’t want at your funeral. Maybe we don’t learn anything in between. Maybe we just go through life gathering grudges, and then we die. Oh, God, isn’t that so sad?

Thursday self brings her car to the mechanic because, as she was driving one day, smoke came out of the steering column. Since she was in motion when this miracle occurred, she stared at the smoke and wondered: What is smoke doing here? Go away, smoke!

In five minutes the smoke had gone but she couldn’t see her dashboard; the instrument panels — the odometer, the fuel gauge, the digital clock — were black as pitch.

She brought her car to the mechanic. He tested the dashboard lights and saw they were non-functional. He asked self if there was anything else that seemed “off” to her.

She replied that she’d seen smoke coming out of her car’s steering column.

The mechanic remained expressionless and intoned: That’s not good.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.


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