Postcards of People I Don't Know V

Persistent Good Moods

Through golf carts good moods are borne. More than any other small vehicle—how is the breeze always just right—a golf cart asserts itself as a deliverer from a life not-always-just-pure-fun. These strong good moods make even a fall from a golf cart feel unlike a fall. Once I did fall, and because everyone was distracted by his or her good mood, the cart didn’t stop right away. Of course, my head didn’t crack. A cracked head is incongruous with the good moods agreed to in silence by all involved in a golf cart tour. The cart stopped and whirred backwards. My brother, who is older, looked at me like I was a dropped pencil. I lifted my head and looked at the pink-and-white striped canopy over my brother's head. I thought I probably was not very hurt. My brother often made me think I was not as hurt as I thought I was. Later, this hurt me. I think. I got back in and we motored away between green hills.