He got in the car and drove. The grandfather clock on the dashboard wasn’t below six. It was well attached in its normal container. He reached the clock with his eyes, then in hindsight, reached a hand below the car. It wasn’t time to switch lanes, instead he looked over his shoulder, away from the clock, and pulled into the driveway of the bar. The spots were so crowded that he turned the car around, went back home, and got to work making the shortbread cookies he was planning on. Towards the beginning of the oven’s warming up, as the cookies still sat on the counter in a jello like consistency, he put the canopy in auto pilot and broke off a quarter out of the change purse. He threw that ball with the rest of the quarters out the window, and down the street. He was glad he couldn’t see to the bottom of the tray of cookies. Enjoying the sound of the once again light spray of rain out the window, he stood there, but disappointed he thought, as he pulled a five dollar bill he didn’t know he had out of his pocket, that he wasn’t able to mix the oil in with the batter. He tried a sample whether or not this was foolish, and they tasted buttery. Like his memory of short bread reminded him. The plane out the window flew over the top of the house and he remembered to put the thyme in the mixture. Just on top.
He got in the car and drove. The grandfather clock on the dashboard wasn’t below six. It was well attached in its normal container. He reached the clock with his eyes, then in hindsight, reached a hand below the car. It wasn’t time to switch lanes, instead he looked over his shoulder, away from the clock, and pulled into the driveway of the bar. The spots were so crowded that he turned the car around, went
back home, and got to work making the shortbread cookies he was planning on. Towards the beginning of the oven’s warming up, as the cookies still sat on the counter in a jello like consistency, he put the canopy in auto pilot and broke off a quarter out of the change purse. He threw that ball with the rest of the quarters out the window, and down the street. He was glad he couldn’t see to the bottom of the tray of cookies. Enjoying the sound of the once again light spray of rain out the window, he stood there, but disappointed he thought, as he pulled a five dollar bill he didn’t know he had out of his pocket, that he wasn’t able to mix the oil in with the batter. He tried a sample whether or not this was foolish, and they tasted buttery. Like his memory of short bread reminded him. The plane out the window flew over the top of the house and he remembered to put the thyme in the mixture. Just on top.