Saturday, July 11, 2009

The promised land

Sometimes people forget their manners. Sometimes people come to the mountains to relax and then forget to relax. The car that pulled in front of me, cutting me off, almost killing me if not for my razor sharp reflexes. The woman behind me in the store gently pushing her cart against my heels hoping that would make everyone in the line disappear and the clerk to work at lightening speed. The man on his cell phone yelling hoping that that would make the sound move faster through the air. The person who changed lanes three times in one block hoping that God would open the sea of cars as he did for Moses to allow him to return to the promise land. They could all not leave for the promise land soon enough.

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