Traffic Disruption

Taillights lit up as cars braked, a typical occurrence for the time of day termed "rush hour."  Yet the line became a little too long as cars slowed to a speed greatly below normal.  Many cast curious glances around, looking for the accident which is usually responsible for such delays.  Suddenly the cause of it all appeared!  Not a mess of metal and flashing lights- the culprit trotted down the freeway on four legs in a carefree manner-sniffing here and there and jogging along.  Car after car pulled laboriously forward and the escapee's pursuers came into view.  Two men, perhaps in their twenties, running opposite of traffic, several yards behind the long-legged dog.  Both were smiling as though they were quite amused with the situation and perhaps slightly apologetic for the disruption they were causing.  Further up one could see their two vehicles, pulled off on the shoulder- a blue truck carrying a piece of furniture in the bed, and a white car with a rather squashed appearance.  The questions of how the dog got loose - was he riding in the back and jumped out or had they stopped for a bathroom break?  and were the two chasers acquainted or had one stopped out of a Samaritan kindness to help the other? - remained unanswered as the exit ramp loomed nearer and the scene disappeared in the rear-view mirror.

Moving On

"Pull up your pants!" she admonished her peer, who - in the misguided fashion of the day- was displaying the better part of his yellow boxers.  Without a word he yanked his pants up and walked off.
"I'm making a scrapbook," she said solemnly.  "You won't see me after this week."  An eleven-year-old who had already seen too much of the ugly this world has to offer, yet had a smile that could drive away the winter and the songbird's love of music to carry her through.  With half of her years spent here, her strongest ties lay right there in the valley.  She struggles to balance the sorrow of leaving with the anticipated joy for her new life, not always succeeding, but never giving up.

The Cemetery

The letters stood out in bold yellow against a black backdrop, announcing the location of the cemetery.  It seemed rather ill-placed, houses lining one side, a small shack of a business on the other, and all manner of thriving enterprises - primarily restaurants- directly across the street.
A little gravel roundabout large enough for a car's passage encircled the grassy area.  The unsettling aspect came in gazing across the yellow-brown expanse and seeing the sparse scattering of naked trees, which were the only things standing erect.  There were no tombstones, no flowers, just an enlarged emptiness.
Walking across the field, for so it appeared to be, gave one the uncanny feeling that no one had visited the place for quite some time.  Then-invisible from the front of the cemetery, and indeed until one was practically on it, was a headstone, lying flat in the ground.  There were five in all- a number which only made the area seem more desolate- all spread out, isolated even from each other.
The sky darkened and a chill wind started up.  Leaving the lonely cemetery behind with its melancholy air of times past came the most disturbing sight of all - a white real estate sign portraying the words "For Sale" in a bright and cheery blue.

The Memorial

Wilted flowers, broken glass, melted candles standing vigil -
The fading signs of heartbreak from the loss of a young life.
Rocks hold these items hostage from the winds trying to unseat them -
Like the countless hearts seeking to hold on to the angel
Who had so touched their lives and must now fly away.

On the Corner of Keybank

His hair was long and unkempt, his jeans baggy and dirt-encrusted, his teeth blackened.  The sign he held read "Starving father and daughter."  A bundle of clothes and a McDonald's bag sat at the foot of the light post, collecting snow.  It struck me how contradictory his position seemed to the cozy homes across the street - the well-kept cars passing by.
"Here," my husband was handing me a rice crispy treat.  "Give this to him."
The gratitude in his eyes as I rolled down the window and passed out the small offering and the sincerity in his voice as he said "God Bless You," brought my emotions to the surface.  The words "I love you" rose unbidden to my lips.  This man in poverty possessed a profound wisdom - and through him I saw a glimpse of heaven.