We’re Still Out

I was nearly done with my walk.

Up above, clouds hung gray and sad over the morning.

Down below, I pressed the crosswalk button. I was staying at my parents’ house. There is thicker traffic here than on the island where I live.

The “Walk” sign flipped on. A crossing guard came out and walked alongside me. I smiled at her.

“How are you?” I asked.

“It’s a gloomy morning,” she said. “But we’re still out.” And it was such an honest and buoyant assessment: It’s bleak right now, but we won’t be kept down.

“Yeah,” I said to her, feeling more energetic, “you bet.”

Up above, the clouds hung gray and sad. Down below, I headed west to my parents’ house. And the crossing guard, that honest and buoyant crossing guard, had already turned to walk alongside someone else.

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