Driving. The last mile.


I’ve been searching for a passage that I read weeks ago. I can see the font size, the paragraph, the white space, the light above and below the words. Strings that dangle in my consciousness. Yet, despite my end of day Google searches, I’ve come up empty. It goes something like this:

People ask you: “How are you doing?” You turn on the auto-reflex-reflux. You pound the drums with your sticks and dust up dregs. You don’t want others to know, but Life is Good. Very good actually. So, why? Why lead with the dark?

She stands at the turn of Exit 10. The front end of the last mile of my morning commute. The entire elapsed time is less than five seconds, tops. I turn the corner, I look for her, and I’m gone. And she’s gone.

She’s standing with other early morning commuters waiting for the Bus.


She stands alone and apart, while the others are huddled near the stop. Others are shuffling, looking down at their smart phones, taking puffs on their cigarettes, watching smoke rings burn off in the early morning mist.

She’s stoic. No cigarette. No smartphone. Her hands are tucked deep into her pant pockets. Her eyes, those eyes, they never steal a look at passing traffic, or me.

Each morning, every morning, it’s a re-run of the same five-second performance. The tattered dreamcatcher that hangs from her mirror – – has failed her yet again. She stands barefooted on a cold floor, whispering a count of fierce strokes with her hair brush, readying herself for her walk to the bus stop.

I finish my day. TGIF. I stop at the red light next to the bus stop waiting to enter I-287. It’s quiet. It’s still. It’s empty. I leave work and the bus stop behind, but not Her.

I pull up to our house. Susan is sitting on the front porch with Zeke. Zeke’s tail is swishing back and forth with anticipation.

“Long Day?”

“No. Good Day. Great to be Home!”



  1. Power in the image? The force of character, yes!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Shocking! You mean Google can’t find everything!? 🙂
    Maybe they will have a new rival who can search the way you want: by white space, when you saw it, how it made you feel, etc.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Exactly. I can’t begin to tell you how long I looked for the quote, how many searches – to come up empty. And I know that I didn’t capture the simple words – simpler than my recollection above. I finally had to let it go. LET IT GO. Please let it go.


  3. There is no passage that would have evoked the imagery and response that your own words did. Her dream catcher failed her yet again – and I sigh. I wish more golden dreams for her, and that your homecomings always include Susan and a pup with a metronomic tail.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. The contrast and the gratitude. Perfect.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. those five seconds put things into perspective

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Powerful, DK. I can’t decide which moved me more, the image of the dusty dream catcher or those measured brush strokes. Gratitude, go with it. I was just away from home for a week and I returned with a heart that is full because of the many blessings I enjoy. No shame in being happy for our simple blessings, pal, no shame….

    Liked by 1 person

  7. There but for the grace of God go I. Gratitude. (Your writing touches me beyond words, David. I can’t imagine someone else’s quote that would have evoked the images and feelings any better).

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Vivid imagery. Thought provoking and warm.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. You possess such GREAT power of observation, my friend…it is a wonderful part of who you are. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I have to ask for a pass today…just do. But this post really hit me, as did your line: “Strings that dangle in my consciousness. ” Nodding, just nodding.

    Liked by 1 person

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