Today, a first. I got a lift on a tractor from someone with whom I have a waving acquaintance. That’s what is bound to happen, I suppose, when you tramp up and down a two-kilometre stretch with a hoe in your hand. The irony is that this particular tractor driver has got to be the worst in these parts; he speeds, and does not always drive straight – on the road, anyhow. I normally give him a wide berth when I see him coming from the opposite direction.
To his credit, he drove all right during the one-kilometre lift he gave me to the local shop, with me standing on the little platform next to the driver’s seat. One gets a nice view from up there – especially of all the passing traffic at which this kind tractor driver waved. I bet half the village knows about it already. Not that I give two hoots. I was merely happy to save the rubber on the soles of my boots, which is wearing quite thin these days.
©2019 Allison Wright
That elusive pair of jeans 
Say something here!