I am unnaturally excited for this weekend. If you know me from real life or the Absolute Write SFF Cantina, you will know why I'm excited, but I'm not going to say why here, not yet. I don't want to jinx it. But suffice to say, next week's Moments should be interesting.
This week, we've got our first contribution from a friend of mine, Kat! Well, by contribution, I mean she told me this story, and I asked if I could share it. But I'm counting it because it's not my moment. If you've got a moment you want to share, you can either drop it in the comments or email me at maggiemaxwellbooks @ gmail.com.
- There was a man, young, late teens or early twenties, going around a high school track, but he wasn't running. He was hopping. Backwards. He had a soccer ball with him, and he was rolling it backwards with him with one foot as he hopped on the other. Hop, roll, hop, roll. I only drove by for a few seconds, but he kept it up the whole time I could see him. If it's a common soccer drill or exercise technique, it's one I've never seen before in my life.
- Conversely, I encountered an older man, this one middle-aged. He had a long white braid down his back and looked to be of either Hispanic or American Indian descent from his tanned, wrinkled skin. But what caught my eye about him was his car: a rust red Edsel Corsair. Gorgeous old car, just out for a weekday drive. As we shared the road, he sped past a younger man in a modern green sports car, and as he passed, the man in the sports car rolled down his window and gave the corsair driver a thumbs up.
- Kat's Moment: There's a sandwich counter downstairs from her office run by a man with a strange tick. When he makes a sandwich, once everything is on it, he pats it down, squaring up the sides of the bread as best he can. Once the sides are squared, anything that's left hanging off the side is removed. Then he squares it again, checks the sides, removes hanging parts. He repeats this until everything that is on the sandwich fits inside the bread. The end result is, ultimately, a sandwich with not very much on it.