So I am taking this online creative writing class. Last week the instructor gave us an assignment to practice "galumphing." Galumphing, she explained, is where you write whatever pops into your head and follow the thought whereever it takes you. I was relieved to hear that it had nothing to do with elephants.
But my apprehension returned when she gave us each three random words to work with and said to let our imaginations run wild but to incorporate the three random words in our story. I am deeply concerned that the bounds of my imagination are clearly demonstrating that I am, in fact, as crazy as you may have suspected. My three words were "Car keys, Rabbit, Grocery Store" and this is what popped out of my brain.
Car Keys. Rabbit. Grocery Store.
“Can I borrow the car keys?” Trixie asked.
“But you don’t know how to drive.” I said.
“No, but the Rabbit does.” She answered.
The Rabbit? While I had noticed Rabbit tracks in the back yard, I hadn’t realized that the Rabbit and Trixie were friends. It seemed like an odd pairing. After all Trixie was a small brown and black house cat. And the Rabbit was...well…the Rabbit was lunch. I immediately suspected that something fishy was going on.
“Well, where will you be going?” I challenged her.
“To the grocery store.” Trixie said.
It seemed like a reasonable request. But still, I wasn’t sure. Trixie had a penchant for mischief. One time while we were on vacation she rearranged all the furniture in the house so that the bed room was in the kitchen, the kitchen was in the basement and the family room was in the bed room. She claimed it was more convenient that way. I didn’t buy that for a minute. And when a beer bottle cap rolled out from between the couch cushions as I was putting things back in order, I suspected she had thrown a raucous party in our absence. Of course, she denied any wrong doing but from then on, I knew I couldn’t trust her.
“Do you even know how to get to the grocery store?” I asked.
Apparently, Trixie had anticipated my question. She unfolded a street map on the table and pointed her paw to the page. She had drawn a neat red circle at the intersection of College and Brown. Yep, that’s where the store is. Obviously, she had done her homework.
I pulled the car keys from my pocket and jangled them in my hand. A devious smile crept across her face and her whiskers twitched as her eyes fixed on the keys. She licked her lips, hungry for her prize. Then, just as I was about to toss them to her waiting paws, I noticed something.
“Hold On Just One Minute!” I shouted. At the bottom of the map I saw a small black X sketched on the page in Trixie’s paw-writing.
“That’s the race track! You’re planning to bet on the horses!” I cried.
“Wait, let me explain!” Trixie pleaded. “You see the Rabbit has some inside information!”
“This otta be good”, I mumbled.
But Trixie kept going. “See, the Skunk told the Rabbit that the Owl was out of the stables last night and overheard Whinny the Pooh complaining about her oats. She’s the favorite in the second, you know. Anyway, according to the Owl who told the Skunk who told the Rabbit, Pooh said that if her meals didn’t improve she’d throw the race. Or did she say she would show or place? Either way, it means Smokey the Bandit is a shoe in!”
“How did you intend to place a bet?” I demanded “You don’t have that kind of money.”
Trixie looked away, afraid to meet my gaze. That’s when I remembered that Lou’s House of Clunkers sits right next to the Race Track.
“You were going to sell the car!” I yelled.
“I think its time for my nap” Trixie shouted as she darted out of the room.
Car Keys. Rabbit. Grocery Store.
“Can I borrow the car keys?” Trixie asked.
“But you don’t know how to drive.” I said.
“No, but the Rabbit does.” She answered.
The Rabbit? While I had noticed Rabbit tracks in the back yard, I hadn’t realized that the Rabbit and Trixie were friends. It seemed like an odd pairing. After all Trixie was a small brown and black house cat. And the Rabbit was...well…the Rabbit was lunch. I immediately suspected that something fishy was going on.
“Well, where will you be going?” I challenged her.
“To the grocery store.” Trixie said.
It seemed like a reasonable request. But still, I wasn’t sure. Trixie had a penchant for mischief. One time while we were on vacation she rearranged all the furniture in the house so that the bed room was in the kitchen, the kitchen was in the basement and the family room was in the bed room. She claimed it was more convenient that way. I didn’t buy that for a minute. And when a beer bottle cap rolled out from between the couch cushions as I was putting things back in order, I suspected she had thrown a raucous party in our absence. Of course, she denied any wrong doing but from then on, I knew I couldn’t trust her.
“Do you even know how to get to the grocery store?” I asked.
Apparently, Trixie had anticipated my question. She unfolded a street map on the table and pointed her paw to the page. She had drawn a neat red circle at the intersection of College and Brown. Yep, that’s where the store is. Obviously, she had done her homework.
I pulled the car keys from my pocket and jangled them in my hand. A devious smile crept across her face and her whiskers twitched as her eyes fixed on the keys. She licked her lips, hungry for her prize. Then, just as I was about to toss them to her waiting paws, I noticed something.
“Hold On Just One Minute!” I shouted. At the bottom of the map I saw a small black X sketched on the page in Trixie’s paw-writing.
“That’s the race track! You’re planning to bet on the horses!” I cried.
“Wait, let me explain!” Trixie pleaded. “You see the Rabbit has some inside information!”
“This otta be good”, I mumbled.
But Trixie kept going. “See, the Skunk told the Rabbit that the Owl was out of the stables last night and overheard Whinny the Pooh complaining about her oats. She’s the favorite in the second, you know. Anyway, according to the Owl who told the Skunk who told the Rabbit, Pooh said that if her meals didn’t improve she’d throw the race. Or did she say she would show or place? Either way, it means Smokey the Bandit is a shoe in!”
“How did you intend to place a bet?” I demanded “You don’t have that kind of money.”
Trixie looked away, afraid to meet my gaze. That’s when I remembered that Lou’s House of Clunkers sits right next to the Race Track.
“You were going to sell the car!” I yelled.
“I think its time for my nap” Trixie shouted as she darted out of the room.
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