This is another of my six-sentence flash-fiction contributions.

I was never a bullhauler, but this is the only image I’ve got.
  1. I make my living in a bubble.
  2. Behind a tough sheet of Plexiglas I watch fathers in New Jersey going to work before dawn, families vacationing in Arizona, mothers loading groceries in Chicago.
  3. I drive a big truck—garment loads from New York and produce from California, back and forth from coast to coast.
  4. The first time I saw an elephant blocking the road, I pulled over and sloshed through the roadside trees in the rain, trying to figure out where it had gone when I looked away.
  5. When it appeared for the third time, I realized I had issues I had to resolve.
  6. Dispatch threatened to reassigned my lovely truck when I decided to take some leave, but it was my life and I needed to sort it out.