Word of the day: Windmill
This is an excerpt from a work-in-progress I've been working on for about a year. It's not quite a sequel to my novel Kilroy Was Here. More of a spin-off. I chose it because it features today's word.
This stretch of Interstate 40 east of Amarillo is empty except for the truckers. Clara is quiet as she drives. Her mind is probably consumed with some Simone de Beavoir essay or something. I’m ignoring texts from my ex and staring out the window at the energy turbines scattered out across the plains on each side of the highway. They go on forever, disappearing across the horizon. The blades turning slowly as if the idea of creating wind energy is such a bother. The windmills are over it. I feel you, windmills.
“Want music?” I ask Clara. She responds with a shrug so I turn on some Kacey Musgraves and pull up a website on my phone for an Amarillo steakhouse. One of the reasons I took the Herpezoid hunting job with Corporate was the opportunity it provided to see some cool shit.
“So, there’s an awesome steakhouse in Amarillo, Texas, that offers a free 72-oz steak dinner if you can eat it in less than an hour.” I hold my phone up to her face to show her a picture of the gorgeous eating challenge. “Look at that sumbitch.”
She pushes the image away. “You shouldn’t eat that stuff, Marlene. You’ll wake up one day with heart disease and a blocked colon.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I admire the steak for the work of art it is.
“Besides.” She rests her arms on the steering wheel. “You couldn’t finish it in an hour.”