A Pause

He pulled the car over to the curb. One hand on the wheel, one on the phone, waiting for a response, staring at his last message. His heartbeat became overwhelming. Sudden claustrophobia struck. He shook his arms out and tried to engage the muscles in his legs. A traffic cop pulled up behind him. Looking in the mirror, he cursed under his breath, then pulled back into traffic to search for another place to wait.

No. 171

Control

The man sitting across from me had just gotten back from North Carolina, and already he needed to go again. He never flew, instead choosing to drive cross-country, spend the time. He held his backpack tight against his body, and his legs shifted beneath him seeking a comfortable position. The driver departed the bus to use the bathroom. The man looked around and asked if this was how it always went.

No. 152