Writing Prompt: The car door slammed.

Good morning once again the day is not sunny, but still, we push on. It is after all autumn and the season of the rains. At least the current rain is a nice soft backdrop. A gentle tattoo on the roof. Yesterday it sounded like we really should have taken those Ark building classes taught at the continuing education center. But you didn’t show up for a weather report, so lets just jump into the morning prompt and splash around in it for a bit. Ready, set, release the timers!

Oh I rather like this one. No clue what the story will be but I like the setting. a lot of very interesting things can happen in too well regulated a neighborhood like this. All sorts of possibilities. I rather like it. No clue what stories I will end up setting there, but I’m sure I’ll figure out something.

Friday, October 8th: The car door slammed.

The car door slammed.  The noise was loud in the quiet neighborhood and more than one neighbor flitted to their windows to peer through the curtains.  This wasn’t a neighborhood where car doors routinely slammed. 

One of the oldest neighborhoods in the town of Meadowbrooke the houses were built before the advent of the automobile.  They were built by people who were wealthy, but not wealthy enough to spare the space for the upkeep of their own horses and carriages. 

The first residents relied on the network of horse drawn carriages and then later celebrated the arrival of the town car, a station of which was still operational and an easy walk most mornings.  As one of the historic districts tourists liked to wonder through when they left their shops, the neighborhood atmosphere was maintained. 

House colors were strictly regulated.  Postmen delivered mail on foot and anyone with a vehicle parked it in a designated space in the public garage built on the edge of the neighborhood.  It was not permissible to park on the street in front of the houses at any hour.

As a result few of the residents bothered with the expense of a car, using the street car when they needed to go shopping and renting a vehicle when a longer distance needed to be traversed.  A car door slamming here was the same as ringing the large bell at the end of the street and yelling fire.

It was a sign that something unusual was afoot.

Those peering through their curtains ready to gawk at another’s calamity, were soon disappointed as the cause of the car’s arrival and the slamming of the door were soon evident.  Two weeks prior, Millicent Bainbridge had her niece move in with her.  The niece was heavily pregnant, the father still deployed overseas.  The gossip involved complications and the nearness of a specialized hospital. 

As a pale Millicent helped her terrified looking niece waddle  to the waiting vehicle, supported on her other side by a man none of them had seen, the calamity was clear.  Either the birth was eminent or something had gone badly wrong.  The scene caused less titillation among the watchers.  There would still be gossip the following day of course.  Nothing that happened here was not discussed, but there would be concern rather than joy. 

In the two weeks since her arrival, all of them managed to stop by Millicent’s house for a quick look at the niece, Emily.  All found her a sweet and charming person.  No joy would be taken from the thought of potential harm to either her or her baby.

Another car door slammed and the car, now holding not only the driver, but Emily and Millicent as well, sped away.  Even in an emergency, there were those who noted the vehicle hadn’t stayed in place long enough to violate the traffic laws.  While they kept their mouths shut for the time being, they would remember it the next time some less potentially traumatizing event was used as a reason to break the parking commandments. For now, as Millicent went with Emily, there was no one to question, so the curtains were let back into place and the neighborhood could do nothing but wait for news to arrive.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s