Did you drive in the middle of the night, while I was sleeping? her four-year-old wide eyes smile at me in disbelief. Like magic happened when she was unaware, and the adult world still retains a wonder. The Christmas tree is lit, in 2020 we do not mess around anymore, do not delay the few joys we may have. The truth is I did drive in the night, weaving out of Manhattan in a necklace of string lights and floating along the dark upstate thruway, pulling up to the little Victorian house long after the town turned in.
I pack light but bring a suitcase full of questions to answer. The sun rises over the mountain ridge, the air is still, expectant. Who do you want to be, when the storm subsides at last? A new year lies on the horizon, a glimmer of hope that things may be different. You consider the possibility that you could be too.
Consider the possibility that something better
could be yours.
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