Will Sandberg
Choco Mountain
Last weekend, my wife and I went go-karting at a new place
that had opened down the road from us. Throughout most of
the laps, my wife led the way, while I stayed behind, watching
her. Sometimes, I would speed up, getting on her tail, and she
would brake-check me. My wife is a great driver. One time, we
drove through the mountains of Utah at night on winding roads
that curved around the mountains in darkness. Some of the
turns were so steep that we thought we were going to drive off.
Mario Kart 64 remains one of my favorite video games. When I
was a kid, my dad and I would race each other around the
64-bit courses. There's a course in the game called Choco
Mountain, a chocolate mountain with chocolate boulders
crashing onto the track. If you get hit by a boulder, it knocks
you off. When my wife was driving us through the mountains in
Utah that night, I couldn't help but imagine we were on Choco
Mountain, avoiding being knocked off into the abyss.
Secret Cow Level
A portal opens. I step through and find myself in a
field. In the distance, I spot a group of around fifty
cows, standing upright and wielding pikes. They
moo menacingly. One of them wears a crown, as if
he's their king. But I'm not afraid. I wear bone armor
and a centaur's skull as a helmet. I hold a wand in
one hand and grasp a jar containing a severed head in
the other. I summon a clay golem from the ground to
fight by my side and use my wand to strike down
the cows, splattering blood and guts across the field.
The cows drop rare items and piles of gold coins.
I exit the portal, create a new game, and do it again.
Nova
The shop stood on Main Street, opposite the post
office. The shop bay doors were open, and we
would walk by and watch the mechanics work, the
cars high up on lifts. A Chevy Nova was parked out
front, which we assumed belonged to one of the
mechanics. My dad had told me that we would
restore a car someday. We had bought books on
how to do it, but he was always busy with work, so
we never got around to it, which was fine. I was ok
walking or riding my bike. Once, my brother and I
found an old Ford in the garage of an abandoned
house on our block. We'd heard the homeowner had
gone to prison. The key was still in the glovebox. My
brother wanted to return at night and tow it away,
but I was worried that someone might see us. He
still brings it up, saying how we should have done it.
A Real Smile
I visit the gas station for coffee and a pop-tart. Not
the healthiest choice, but whatever. The pumps are
busy with trucks fueling up. Looking down, I notice a
sharpie drawing on the concrete. A detailed smiley
face with its tongue out, the artist added strands of
hair, reminiscent of Charlie Brown. An arrow points
to the face, and below it reads, "A real smile!" Is the
artist saying we don't smile enough or that we often
fake our smiles? I don't know, but it made me smile.
Ice Cream Truck
I see an ice cream truck driving around
in December. "What's he doing out here?"
I wonder. Could the truck be a front for
something? Undercover surveillance?
Or maybe he's just trying to make a living.
People might buy ice cream in the winter.
What do I know? It's playing its song
in the middle of a snowy neighborhood.
Christmas morning, as children unwrap
their gifts, guess who rolls by? It's the ice
cream man. Parents are surprised, but the
children see nothing unusual. They ask
for fifty-cents to buy an ice cream cone.
Will Sandberg graduated from Flagler College and lives in sunny Florida. He loves his wife, PC gaming, and watching sports.