The other day I was driving on Roswell Road.

In Atlanta.

Sandy Springs, technically.

It was about 6:15 pm.

Suddenly.

I realized.

I knew the person.

In the car.

In front of me.


 

Which made sense.

Because we were headed to the same place.


 

But then.

I looked.

In the rear view mirror.

And realized.

I knew the person.

In the car.

Behind me.


Which was surprising.


 

Because.

I wasn’t expecting.

To see her.

And didn’t know.

She.

Had a son.


And then.

I realized.


 

I knew everyone.

In every car.

On Roswell Road.

At about 6:15 pm.


 

And everyone.

Not on Roswell Road.

At said time.

And everyone.

On Johnson Ferry.

And Glenridge.

And Hammond.

And Sandy Springs Circle.

And so on.


Fathers.

Mothers.

Sisters.

Brothers.

Sons.

Daughters.

Friends.

Lovers.

Grandmas and Grandpas.

Bandmates.

Colleagues.

Teachers.

Preachers.

And so on.


And like the car in front of me.

I realized.

We were.

All.

Headed.

To.

The.

Same.

Place.


 

Driving on Roswell Road

One thought on “Driving on Roswell Road

  • August 22, 2017 at 2:34 pm
    Permalink

    Wow

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