Why Am I Alive?
Friday, October 23rd, 2009Darkness surrounded our thirty-eight degree October morning. School buses filled the streets with their diesel roar.
Damp, drizzly, dark and dreary. This morning was not ideal for much, but I was looking forward to a day to write. Nearing the coffee shop I reached my left turn lane.
Across from me awaited a school bus. Like me the driver was longing to turn. Traffic was heavy; we both waited to turn.
The bus blocked my immediate view, but I watched for all the cars to pass.
