Tags

, , , , , , ,

Shadows are already stretching out on the dark asphalt. Just past 4
p.m., and I’m squinting under the setting sun’s rays. A faint outline of a
nearly full moon hangs pale in the east. The cow has quite the distance to jump
over this evening. Bare trees glow in the pre-twilight ambiance. Geese flap
high overhead, creating a startling V-formation in the azure expanse.

I lean back, mindlessly idling away the commute home. Rickety Ford
truck lumbers past, croaking in protest. The dinner menu forms in the back of
my mind . . . sautéed shrimp and Napa cabbage . . . David has a “rumbly in his
tumbly,” or so he claims. I wonder how quickly the shrimp will defrost and how
in the world one is supposed to wash Asian cabbage.

Indigo mountains outline a peaceful sunset – no great fanfare, but
majestic all the same. Several airplane exhaust trails scar the nearly
cloudless sky, their smoke lines seemingly afire in the sun’s reflection.

Lady Antebellum’s “American Honey” serenades the calm. “There’s a wild,
wild whisper growing in the wind / calling out my name like a long lost friend.”

It’s a nice serenade, a comforting thought. There have been other
serenades today. Student performing hardcore parkour off metal lockers, nearly
bowling me over in his wild rampage. Quivering lips and barely-controlled tears
at the beginning of second period from a student in trouble. Laughter and
chatter from cramped, bustling hallways. Crying colleague. National anthem sung
by cracking adolescent voices. My husband’s deep assurances.

Stopping now at bank. My feet hurt. Pajamas coming soon. I should
exercise. Very unlikely. Darkness is creeping in, heralding the night. It’s
only Wednesday. Staccato thoughts becoming more jumbled.

I might need another cup of coffee.

Advertisements