The Patient Truck’s Prank — Every evening, Soren polished the old semi’s chrome nose while its pipes puffed two ridiculous curls into the cold alpine air, and every evening he waited for the compass on the grille to stop twitching. Read the full story →
Every evening, Soren polished the old semi’s chrome nose while its pipes puffed two ridiculous curls into the cold alpine air, and every evening he waited for the compass on the grille to stop twitching. One day it would not stop. Because of that, the convoy grumbled, kettles hissed, and someone accused the truck of enjoying the delay; because of that, Soren tapped each paisley panel until a springy clink answered from the last place anyone checked. At last, from behind the compass slid the mayor’s missing teaspoon, warm with engine heat and entirely smug. The pipes puffed two ridiculous curls.
