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Thursday, September 2, 2021

Truck Dream

1980 INTERNATIONAL TRANSTAR II

My wife and I are sitting in the cab of a cab-over semi-truck. There is no trailer, just the tractor. She is in the driver's seat and the engine is running, doing like big diesel engines do. We are supposed to be heading somewhere in a little while and I suggest we should go on over to our official point of departure. It's not far, maybe a couple of blocks, but I have a feeling that something might go wrong, so we should get a jump on whatever it is, and it's not like it's going to hurt anything, the engine is already running. My wife puts the truck in gear and we start moving. We are on an country road a short distance from a rural two-lane blacktop highway. The place we need to be is likewise a short distance from this same highway, but on another road running parallel to this one but a couple of blocks to the north. She pulls up to the highway and checks for traffic, and wouldn't you know it, there's a tall, hipster pedestrian wanting to cross the street just as we get there. He's got black hair and a beard and dark tinted glasses. His hair is a little rumpled, but he's had haircut recently, he looks respectable, not like a jihadist. He makes eye contact with us and decides it is safe to cross, but wouldn't you know it, once he starts actually crossing the street, his pace slows to a saunter. Hipsters. Bah. We wait till he crosses and then pulls out onto the highway. There is no traffic. It's a short distance to the road we want and we turn off there and park the truck. We get out and start walking toward our immediate destination but after a bit we can see that the place we need to be is at least a mile away, straight down this road. The road crosses a field and we can see that it goes up a slight rise and through some trees on the far side. We should just go ahead and drive. I volunteer to go back and get the truck while my wife and the other person we have with us (!) waits. The road back to the truck goes up a small hill. I'm walking in the small roadside ditch, maybe a foot wide and a foot deep, pulling myself along with my hands. Surprisingly I am not out of breath. This dream exercising is great. I get to the top of the hill and the first vehicle I see is a white SUV. It is not our truck, I go on, and then I wake up.

Should I mention that my wife has never driven any kind of big truck?


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