.....to meet her friend for lunch. Every once in awhile she meets him for a big fat burrito wrapped in foil. She always gets the hot sauce. It's a good hot - not the kind where it hurts too much to enjoy the taste and not the kind where she hallucinates and talks to space coyotes. It's a good hot.
She decides to bike there today. On her way she peddles over some train tracks. The unevenness of the road bumps her into a flashback - a vision of a black and white photograph of an african american man standing on the railroad. He'd been working long and hard those days. Sweat drops develop on his forehead like little droplets of mercury. "I wonder if he's married with children. Maybe that's why he works so hard," she hopes. She doesn't want this vision to be a vision of racial hatred. But it's hard to say being that it's in black and white - it could very well be the times of slavery.
BEEP!!! Suddenly she's back to reality as she jumps at the obnoxious behavior of impatient drivers and their overuse of their auto horns (and middle fingers).
Alas, she's at the contemporary restaurant that reminds her of an upscale Taco Bell. She doesn't see her friend, but that's not surprising. He tends to show up shortly after she arrives everytime they meet. A few minutes tick by and she spots him walking around the corner. She always knows what direction he'll be coming from since he parks in the same spot everytime. They smile when their eyes meet and go order their burritos - hers with hot sauce of course.
No comments:
Post a Comment