by Merrell Palmer

Created on: April 18, 2008

Smashing Sale

The eye in the rearview mirror skittered wildly under a puffy lid, fleeing the intrusion of a clumped mascara brush.
"Mr. Harris? This is Patty from the Persistent Pantry. Remember, I called last night, but you were busy."
The marooned-haired woman clutched her steering wheel with the makeup brush dangling between her fingers. Her shoulder cradled a cell phone, and she shifted gears with her left hand.

"Yeah, I know what time it is, Mr. Harris, but I wanted to catch you before my nail appointment. Besides, the sun is up. As I recall, we were going over how much money you spend on groceries in a week's"
Distracted by merging cars onto the interstate, Patty peered into the mirror and attempted to change lanes.
"Mr. Harris? We have a Special running all week for folks in your area Mr. Harris? Mr. Harris?"
She frowned and looked at the silent brick before dropping it between her knees.
"I sure seem to lose a lot of calls on this thing!"
It was more than the line she lost when her car careened off the edge of the road and fell from the asphalt. Jerking the wheel wildly, Patty felt the little tin box rise precariously like the jolt of a Ferris wheel, shudder a few times like a dime in a spin cycle, and then she was staring at the clouds through the cracks in her windshield.
"This is not good," she muttered, dazed, while groping for the seatbelt. "I'll never make that sale now!"
Grasping hands that reached through her broken window, Patty chuckled at her carelessness before fading into the sunlight streaming around the upturned car.
An hour later she opened her eyes and squinted under the glare of a fluorescent light. She carefully touched her bandaged head as she turned to the voice hovering above her.
"Missy, you're a lucky young lady!" The white coat admonished. "Looks like you came through that scrape with just a concussion. You need to rest and we'll evaluate your condition again soon."
Patty nodded and her gaze settled on a plastic bag sagging with her belongings.
She waited until the door clinked shut, and then she sat up, wincing from the banging inside her temples. Reaching across the counter, she found a pair of scissors and carefully cut away the wrappings around her ears. She picked up her cell phone and smiled wanly at the buzzing line.
"Hello. Mr. Harris? This is Patty with the Persistent Pantry. I believe we were disconnected."

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