[If I Were a Good Writer]
 

If I were a good writer, I could describe the beautiful experiences of my life, & not just the horrible ones. I could describe them effectively, without the literary squeals of an eight-year-old, & without the apprehension of a seasoned woman who knows what comes next. I could take you there, where you would see, hear, feel, taste everything.

If I were a good writer, I could describe driving north on George Washington Parkway at 10 on a cool morning. Vivaldi proclaiming life, love, Spring out of the windows. I could adequately relate what the smooth drive makes me feel: the stark shade, the sun peeking through the trees, the smooth ride of my Oldsmobile as it hugs the curves like a man's hands caressing my shoulders, waist, hips. The way all other cars disappear from view, physically & mentally.

If I were a good writer, I could describe how beautiful the scenery is, even at 75mph. How my eyes never miss a detail, how my chest jumps playfully, lovingly at every flicker of light. How the trip handles itself, as all the turns, stretches, surprises are known already, instinctively. Everything comes natural, & at that moment everything, even me, is elegant. 

If I were a good writer, I could describe all of this, & make you feel the breeze, the tranquility, the movements of my vehicle & soul orchestrated by the music. No memories, no expectations, nothing except enchantment for a moment as long as the road. The dream ends abruptly at the end of the Parkway where the traffic spits out into civilization: the gritty, bustling, wicked Beltway.

If I were a good writer, the end wouldn't matter. In fact, it wouldn't even exist.

If I were a good writer, you'd be there in the car with me tomorrow morning sharing the experience.

If only I were a good writer ...