Teen Ink

     The car nudged up against the

trash can again, like a dog wanting

another treat from its trainer.

My sister frantically ground the

gears into reverse and pulled

out between the trash cans as

if they were an open mouth

that would snap her up.

Again

and again

she parallel parked, until

finally she mastered the art.

Confident, she turned up the radio ...

and mistook the brake for gas.

The sound of the trash can

thundering

down the street was heard a mile

away.

Quickly, she slammed on

the brakes and turned off the radio,

freezing like a caught burglar, and

ran after the trash can.