Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

One day you may find yourself moving down a highway at 87 mph in a 70 mph zone and pass a state trooper. As you glance in the rear view mirror to see if you will be the recipient of points on your license, you smile as you see no acceleration on his part and continue singing "Running Down a Dream." You are wondering what you will write about and think that really nothing of particularly literary note has occurred since you last picked up a book, and as you drain the final dregs of espresso from the very large cup in your hands remembering that your barista knew you by name after months of absence, you know that today will be a very fine day. You might even arrive home to find a mother duck with her flock, flight, parcel, pod, fleet, or dissimulation of baby ducks in your paved parking lot and wonder how that might happen when you are far removed from a body of water. You are also grateful that you own an OED so that you can consult Appendix XVI for groups of such animals. After checking your mail for the first time in a week, you find a postcard from your own state and laugh at the cleverness of a friend. As you type, you realize that you have thrown punctuation to the wind and accept (and share) for one morning a free-form prose.