Treasure Island

Hans Ostrom

(1954 / California)


I got into my car. I drove it
so it joined other cars in a long,
noisy line between one city
and another. To my left
another long line of cars
moved from the city
to which my line was
going to the city I’d
just left. When my car
and I arrived, I stopped
it and left it amongst
other stopped cars. I
entered a building. On
one of its upper floors,
I entered a room. I sat
down. For several years
I looked at a computer
monitor or talked. Sometimes
I looked out a window
and down to see my car.
After more years, I left
the building. I got into my car.

Submitted: Friday, November 16, 2007
Edited: Monday, April 25, 2011

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  • Tom J. Mariani (11/18/2007 6:29:00 PM)

    Were you wearing a grey flannel suit? You suggest the senselessness of your driving on direction to work and a line of cars coming the other way. It 1ms that what whatever went on a work wasn't worth mentioning. The coming and going gets more coverage than the being there. In 'Working Out of a Corner Office' I try to describe what it feels to work a job that you have left the reader to imagine. I can almost hear your painful daily grind as you stare out the window at your car waiting for the clock move. (Report) Reply

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