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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My conscious mind was Shocked when I realized I was slamming on my brakes. There are Three lanes of solid orange lights, As far as I can see down the interstate. A wreck most probably. We began inching our way uphill, pretending to be socialized. No one can see anything. Maybe a trucker, but none of us in cars. The cars at the top of the next hill are not fighting for lanes yet, So I wonder how far we are going to inch our way toward our destination. I call four people. One is my husband. Find out what’s happening, I tell him. My GPS went on the blink this week; it won’t be any help. Three of the people are co-workers. I ask them for a favor. All say yes. One I have gotten out of bed. Inch. Inch. Inch. Inch. Inch. One car pulls out of the right hand lane, and drives like a maniac down the emergency lane. A Mustang. Go figure. We inch our way to the top of the hill I can now see a non-moving ribbon of orange lights. My husband calls me. Nothing on the news yet. No empathy or patience now, I look for my chance. Aha! A slow car. I swerve into the right-hand lane, the one I never use. We inch forward a few more inches. Suddenly my car pulls a sharp right. She and I race down the emergency lane, Like there are hungry cheetahs after us. I see flashing red and blue lights to my left As we exit. High above on the Interstate bridge We are at a stoplight, facing an Interstate entrance ramp. The cars going up this ramp are uninhibited; free to fly, I watch five cars go up the ramp, ahead of me. I swear at the light for not changing fast enough. I marvel at the lack of cars as I re-enter the Interstate. I am so early, I stop and buy gas. Amazingly, I am the first car at work, Beating everyone I called. I love being an impatient risk taker.
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