iArt22

It was a grey winter afternoon. A black van with 'Strathmore Discount Home Cleaning' painted on the side came to a stop in front of an average suburban home, built probably in the mid 1990s. The driver, a woman named Sheryl, checked her clipboard. This was the place. 366 Cedarhaven Drive. She checked the work detail. The job appeared to be a typical light home cleaning - kitchen, bathroom, vacuum the floors, not unlike the three other jobs she had done that day. Shouldn't take more than an hour or two. Under special instructions was written 'WON'T BE HOME FOR APPOINTMENT - ENTER THROUGH GARAGE PASS. 4172'. Again, it was fairly common for resi

"Can you stop soon? I really need to pee." A '91 Oldsmobile Cutlass sat idling in the center lane of Highway 477. It was noon on a Friday and, even though they were in the middle of nowhere, traffic was backed up. "Sure, we can stop. We'As long as you're comfortable with peeing in the middle of the highway." "Gah, you know what I mean." Lindsey went back to staring out the car window. She tapped her foot impatiently on the carpet. Craig was loudly sipping on a cup of soda and drumming his hands on the steering wheel. Suddenly, traffic started moving forward. Craig shifted into gear and started driving again. Lindsey didn't pee before she

Rachel slowly walked down the dimly lit suburban streets, sipping on a Big Gulp filled to the brim with Coca-Cola. It was a hot and muggy July night and she was making her way home after her late shift at the 7-11 ended. It was a long walk, nearly two miles, but Rachel enjoyed it. The nighttime was quiet, calm, peaceful. Just the sound of crickets, dogs, and cars far away. She needed the exercise anyways. Rachel could have gotten a ride from somebody, or taken a bus. But she didn't want to be a burden on her friends or spend extra money. She even had her own car, an old Plymouth Acclaim her grandfather gave her, but it was barely running and

Natalie sat in the passenger seat of a Chevrolet Suburban, snacking on a piece of watermelon. Her husband, Toby, was driving. Behind her was her son Neil who was only six years old. He was fast asleep. Natalie watched as the monotonous scenery of trees and farmland passed by at the side of the busy highway. Suddenly, Toby turned to the next exit of the freeway. "I'm gonna fill up the gas tank. Want anything?" Natalie really didn't feel like standing up and getting out of the car. "Uh, just a lemonade." She threw the watermelon rind out the window. The Suburban pulled into a gas station. As Toby went inside to buy the lemonade and pay for