Such Sweet Sorrow

Tinogasta, Argentina, by TPS Dave

Vamos, they had said. Get lost, they had said, and meant it literally.

Vamos, for that was his name, had always been unlucky. He carried a rabbit’s foot to try to counter this, but still had the kind of luck that the rabbit had presumably had.

Anyone could forget to fasten the back doors of their truck, as Vamos had yesterday, but only an unlucky person would have those doors swing open as he went round the bend just outside his village, spilling his entire cargo onto the bank beside that bend.

This was why there was a giant sugar dune there now.

The villagers had shouted at him, about the fact that there would be no sugar to put in their cakes, to flavour their jam, or to sprinkle upon their tortillas.

None of them ever actually sprinkled sugar on their tortillas, but they had been on a roll by then.

Then this morning the villagers had discovered that without sugar their coffee tasted like liquid cigarette smoke. Panic had set in. People were taking buckets and spades to the dune and returning with sugar pocked with grasses, small stones and coyote droppings. A black market had sprung up in this despite the fact that it looked like cocaine that someone had sneezed into.

The mayor had confiscated Vamos’s truck, given him a burro and told him to leave forever.

Now he was on the road, passing the line of poles that brought electricity, really slow broadband and Desperate Housewives to the village.

He touched the reassuring rabbit’s foot. The next village was seventy miles away, but he knew it had a small factory which made the little spinning fireworks that are set off during fiestas.

He could get a job there. His luck was surely about to change.


This post was written to a 300 word limit for Flash! Friday, with the photo as a prompt.
The photo is entitled “Tinogasta, Argentina”, and is by TPS Dave.

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