A GAME.

[rinkhals]

So I haven't been posting recently, which is sort of a combo attack of Plurk eating my attention and life being . . . I don't want to say boring because I'm not BORED, but to other people it would probably be boring because it consists of a lot of "TODAY WE WENT TO GET CUPCAKES AND IT WAS CUPCAKE HAPPY HOUR! THEN I CLEANED THE KITCHEN SOME

Comments

[rinkhals]

Janie’s parents had bought the truck at an antique store, and that was how she learned that “antique” was a fancy word for “old.” More like “old and way too expensive,” because Janie had thrown away better dump trucks than that one and hadn’t gotten anything for them. The new-old truck had a name on it, and some flaking orange paint, and that was all; there was nothing special about it. It didn’t even have a motor like the one Matt had, and that one only cost half as much.

Janie’s dad wasn’t very happy when Janie brought that up.

He’d be really unhappy if he caught her playing with the stupid old truck, so she wasn’t going to get caught. She wasn’t even sure why she was bothering with it-maybe because it was so expensive. The only toy Janie had that was that expensive was her Kids Wheels, and she couldn’t play with that in the winter. And she’d never played with an antique before.

The house was quiet with both of her parents still at work and the drifts of snow muffling the sounds outside. It was starting to come down hard, and Janie grabbed one of her old notebooks and tore several of the pages into little pieces to load the orange truck with. There were always trucks outside when it started snowing like this. Some of them put salt on the roads, and some of them were there to take the snow away. The orange truck would be the second kind because it had a dump to carry things away in. She pushed her homemade snow into a pile on the floor so that Billy could load it up. Billy was her doll.