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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Comedy >> ID #648200 |
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The prompt: You're the moth caught inside a car on a long trip. Tell me how you survive. (any style)
- - - - - Traffic lights are beckoning to me; rear window in the car becomes my perch… the hours ticking by, my end to see unless I find a way out of this lurch. I’ve never been so hot or out of place! My wings are testament to my distress; they flutter ‘gainst the glass as on we race... I can’t believe I’ve gotten in this mess. I find a cracker crumb and have some lunch; I calm myself and try to think it out. My heart is pounding, louder than my munch; My insect eyes are darting all about. Then, thank the God of Moths, they stop for gas; and I escape back home to Boston, Mass!
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