Salmon haze meanders up the horizon, blurring the lines between night and day. Radio talk show fills the background with bits of banter. Heat slowly seeps up my body as the car’s floor vents breathe warmth into the small space. Broiled bagel fills the air with buttery fragrance, nearly overpowering to a stomach not sure of the “Cozi” espresso sinking into its depths. I follow red dots of eerie light moving west along Highway 85’s winding corridor. Twinkling yellow lights speed toward me, casting a prismatic glow in their eastward wake.
Speakers whisper a country song: “I don’t want to just make love. I want to make love last.” It’s the wistful message of the Kosi 101.1 Murphy & Denise show this a.m.. And I think to myself, isn’t that what we all long for . . . love that lasts? Our whole lives could probably be summarized by that dream.
Musing, I flit from topic to topic, wondering whether the morning commute must be mundane or whether there are pieces of glory wedged into the drudge of 65 miles per hour down I-76. I dare to think so.
Palest pink reflecting on the snowy glory of Rocky Mountain foothills. Car cushions enveloping my wearing body. Sensation of long hair cascading down my face, almost dry from the shower’s spray. Heart seeking the moments that take my breathe away. Baby-room colors dying the sky. Darkened windows. Families drinking their first cups of coffee behind sleepy doors.
It’s Wednesday morning. Radio chimes in: “Girl, you’re amazing / just the way you are.” Accepting that with my absorbing espresso, I pull into my usual parking spot near weathered tree. Breathing a prayer, “May I make a difference. May I love.” I step out into the freezing air, staring down past flowing paisley silk to bright blue ballet flats.
I might need another cup of coffee.
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