Estelle Louise Creative Writing

On the eastern shores of Virginia in the picturesque hamlet of Wrongberight, recent summer rainstorms have transformed the roadways, into a never-ending slip and slide. Clemmy Sue Jarvis, a petite, vivacious woman of sixty-three, detested driving on rain soaked roads. However, she had no choice, late Saturday afternoon, but to cautiously, eased out of her driveway, and turn south on to Flat Bottom Road. All was well until she was about fifty yards, from her dearest friend Estelle Louise’s long dirt driveway and she skidded across a massive oil slick. As a result, she closed her deep-set green eyes and prayed, as her rusty Chevy pickup, pieced together with hairpins, bubble gum, and duct tape, spun in circles, down the middle of the country road. Eventually it slithered sideways and abruptly stopped.

When she opened her eyes, to have a look see, much to her surprise, the Chevy had missed by inches a large, deep pool of thick muddy water in which stood Estelle Louise’s rural mailbox, dead center and her tumbledown two-story clapboard house thirty paces directly behind it. Clemmie Sue shot up a prayer, thanked her heavenly father for the adventured, and drove away.