The truck stood waiting. His tricked out, shiny and sleek, big rig, 18 wheeler. The engine had been idling and now was warmed up and ready for him to go on his midnight run to the city and then out into the far lying reaches of numerous small towns, delivering goods that wouldn’t be delivered if it wasn’t for him and his mighty truck …
… In the harsh light of reality’s morning sun, he rolled out of bed. After several cups of coffee and a quick breakfast he was on his way. Not in the 18-wheeler, but in a much more modest truck, picking up trash people left by the curbside each day.
Throughout the early morning hours he filled the back of his truck with the multitude of various unwanted things, finding (as usual) he couldn’t wait to return home so he could rummage through the discarded items. His price for removing the trash.
Amazing that one person’s trash is another person’s treasure. Inconceivable how many quality items he found and resold, adding to his “dream truck” kitty.
One day … one day he vowed, he’d have enough money to buy the truck of his dreams. To be a real trucker, to pick up and deliver cargo or “goods”. Being on the road – for real. Living the dream.
Until then he’d depend on his trusty little truck to get the job done. He was a trucker after all, even if for now – it was only in spirit.
But one day …
This is my entry for Sunday Photo Fiction. For more info. click here. Lots of great short fiction stories to check out or enter yourself. Lots of fun for everyone at Alastair’s Sunday Photo Fiction.
Have a great week ahead, keep working towards your dreams. Dreams do come true.