a river of stones- 7.2.11

We are stopped on the freeway in a place we would normally pass
without a second glance. Now I notice the parched grass in the
median, peppered with tiny orange flowers, the tattoo on the back
of neck of the driver in the car to our right, and the oppressive
heat in the car, before I think to open a second window for the
cross-draft. I am impatient to be moving again.

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2 thoughts on “a river of stones- 7.2.11

  1. Me too, Angie. We’ve driven this route so many times, but I never really noticed much until we were stuck in a traffic jam on the freeway for an hour, and there was nothing else to look at!

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