The Tornado and the Bug

Julius drove his 1979 yellow VW bug toward the tornado and wondered why his navel lint was always blue. He didn’t even own a blue shirt. He reached under his white t-shirt and hooked his index finger into his belly button, digging out some fluff. He pinched it and brought it before his eyes. It was blue. He rolled down his window and flicked the lint out, then rolled the window back up.

His dash cam was capturing the tornado nicely. A thin twister, swaying its hips all down the cornfields, throwing uprooted crops around. Julius always wanted to see a cow get lifted up but it hadn’t happened yet.

He wondered if some day Google would invent a storm chasing self-driving car. Of course they would. Anything involving vehicles would soon be robotic. His career was numbered. But as long as he had his bug, he’d chase storms.

Rain began pelting his windshield. The sky was a strange shade of charcoal, and the twister swayed in the darkness like a belly dancer. Julius wanted to dance with the twister. Such grace, such passion. He felt his foot getting heavy, and the twister grew closer. It had turned. It was coming to him, and he was going to her. It. The rain was hitting hard. The bug was jostled by the wind. What would happen? What would happen if he kept driving?

He thought about Google. He wondered where his discarded belly lint was. Why was it blue? The world didn’t make sense. But that was okay.

He embraced the chaos.

 


 

 

Day 291’s three random writing prompt categories were, “Lint,” “Punch buggy,” and, “The calm before the storm.”

Storm chaser. Maybe that should be my career. One storm a day for 365 days. There’s next year’s challenge figured out.

– H.

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