Sensory Writing

…

…times in an empty park on a spring day. I watch car after car pass by while walking to mine. Some are brightly polished, reflecting the sun. Others have of dull, dusty look. Every few cars make a sharp squeak as they brake. The exhaust fills the air and makes me think of a grimy factory. And then I reach my car. Sitting in the warm, soft seat, I lost my thoughts and fall asleep.