traffic report

on my way to work today, behind me, an attractive young woman alone in a large, mink mercedes, is talking and crying. she stays behind me for a good few blocks, several times wiping tears from her eyes. before the traffic ocean diverts us into different streams, i see her smile briefly. bravely. i want to roll down my window and ask, “are you ok?”, but i am in my metal cocoon. she floats off in hers, and we drift apart. i have so many questions, intrigued.

later, on my way from work: traffic is backed up by huge military trucks filled with belongings and beds. police vehicles flashing their lights are tranced out dancers blinking blue in the twilight. ambulances line up in hopefully, needless, anticipation behind endless taxis filled to capacity… on the other end of the spectrum from my mink lady, the victims of xenophobia, once again on the move. their destination rosettenville, i hear on the news. i want to shout out encouragement, wish them well, but it would only be lost on the waves of traffic noise in the dying daylight.

i hope they’re making their way back from hell. 

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