where the writers are
With the Subtlety of a Hammer

 

I was stuck in traffic yesterday,

Heading home from work…in the middle of the afternoon.

Nice, right?

 

Large white van in front of me

Not moving. Not an inch. Dead in the water.

Groan.

 

Check messages and fiddle with the radio.

Got nothing better to do while I wait.

Boring.

 

There’s a little girl in the van. Just noticed her.

She is wearing a pink helmet. She’s not well.

Sad.

 

She got an unlucky hand, life is always going to be hard.

But she seems happy and content.

I lack grace.

 

Traffic moves and I make my way down the road.

To the gym, to do my hamster wheel impression.

A tad overweight.

 

Feet pedaling, wheels spinning. Going nowhere fast.

Look out window to help pass the time.

Sweating.

 

Woman walking up to the front door. She’s blind.

She has one of those red-tipped canes and walks with confidence.

I lack coordination.

 

Leave gym, stop at the store.

Lessons starting to sink in. Time to reflect.

Much to be grateful for.

 

Waiting in line, dinner to make.

Deaf man signing with friend in front of me.

I don’t always listen.

 

Sitting in car. Remember that guy.

“I complained I had no shoes until I met someone with no feet.”

The prick was right.