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Thursday, November 29, 2012

The Road to Dunlapp

It felt like I had needles in my feet
Down on the floorboard of the old Plymouth had to be the coldest part of the car
I'd worn my better boots
But they were no match for the ten below outside temps
The weak sputtering fan of the defroster could barely keep the inside of the windshield clear

My radio started losing the station from the last town I'd passed
A one horse type of affair
With a shuttered post office
The only lights I'd seen on had been the gas station I'd filled up at
Finding that the car was only getting eleven miles per gallon
Had only added to my bad mood

I grasped the chromed plastic knob with the black center
Turning it slowly through the whining static
Until I heard something like music
It was christian radio
So I kept searching
But that was the only thing that came in

So it was to the classic strains of "My God is a Rocking God"
That I rolled past the Welcome to Dunlapp sign
Which proclaimed them to be the 1994 State Spelling Bee runners up

Good for them I thought

Fresh snow covered streets greeted my headlights as I turned off the main road
Vort Street
Now that's a helluva name
I was looking for house number fifty three B

About halfway down the street there it was
Looking perfectly ordinary
This place that Craigslist had sent me

I kind of half wanted to turn around
Was this going to be one of those urban legend stories?
Where I walk through the door
And the next thing I know I wake up in a tub full of ice missing a kidney?

Who can say

But this guy advertised a time machine for three hundred bucks

That's why I'm here