She was driving to work on a rainy morning, another morning of another long day in a long week. Running late, again, but driving carefully to avoid slipping in the car into a ditch, because being late was not as bad as that would be.
Frowning, listening to the first track of the CD come round again, approaching the first roundabout. She glances up by rote into her rear view mirror, which is filled, absolutely filled, with the giant black menacing grille of an oversized black truck. She starts at the sensation of this evil-looking vehicle roaring down upon her. She startles herself by starting to cry. They are tears she remembers from being seven, ten, school yard tears, tears from a tired school girl who doesn't have the reserves to deal with a schoolyard bully.
She feels this and realizes she feels it all in a second, speeds up to accomodate the bully and soon he turns and is past, but the realization of it, the awareness of the vulnerability makes her even sadder. Tears roll down as she takes the on ramp and gets up to speed on the highway. She realizes that everyone her life lately is just like the driver of that black menacing truck. She thinks, how can I do this? She pulls off the highway, pulls into a spot at the side of a building, tissues, eye drops. Goes in, buys Advil, the woman behind the cash register is smiley and chatty and generously friendly. She smiles and chats back, blames her weepy eyes and red nose on allergies. "Oh, at least you're not sick! How many are out today, June? One, two, three...four, four people are out." Take care, they say to each other as exits and gets back on her way. She is gathered together. She has collected herself back into a grown up working person and driver. She can do this.
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