July 4, 2012
There was a hot breeze in the mid-afternoon air, and traffic was light. My drink was perspiring. There was the sensation of creamy ice crystals working their way down my throat. The drink tasted sweet and chalky--very mild. I scooped the whipped cream off the top with the end of my straw and considered the time. There was still a half hour to kill before the movie, but I didn't feel like one. Instead, I allowed myself to just drive. I used to do so more often, but with age comes purpose--it seems everyone needs a plan.