The Woman In The Red Coat

Where you do belong? What exit to take? Choose carefully my friend….the exit you choose could lead you to your future, not just the gas pump.  The woman in the red coat smoking a cigarette outside by the ice box could be your child’s mother, the love of your life, the woman who you spend the rest of your days with. You both feel the connection, but nothing is done. Sadness is in the air without even meeting. A relationship has sparked simply from the cold bite of the windy fall air reaching her to you, and you to her as if the leaves were pulling you two together. No sounds besides the dancing of the leaves, the click of the gas and slam of the car door. You beginning to drive away, away from her, your lovely wife, your best friend.  Her big blue eyes and red lips follow the back of your car as her eyes meet yours through the bumpy rear view mirror. Her eyes lower like the certain to your never happening marriage.  Her next drag is slow and deep like your breathing as she becomes smaller in your mirror.  Your eyes bounce back and forth from the road to her now red coat blur. The smoke swirls around her face like a mill in its busy hour, swirling and powerful, unwanted and left alone as her smoked filled breath dances to the sky to only disappear. Gone, left alone and abandoned. You have abandoned your wife off the exit of Ritzville, WA. How could you? Why would you? How dare you?  You must run around for love awaits as your unborn child screams ,”Daddy, turn around!”.

Homework assignment for all my readers. Yes, go on a road trip. Spark up the old ride, and go. Find a destination and drive to it. While you drive towards your random and unplanned destination your thoughts will blossom, your ideas will soar, your past skeletons will play sad songs with strings of hope and understanding. The sound of the road will ease your pain as the open window will air out your demons. The static radio will sing just to you, as your coffee will bring you comfort like a friend sitting in the passenger seat. Drive to be free, from a life of capture. Drive to find yourself throughout the maze of others. Drive to possibly find what you have been looking for all along. Just drive.

What community do you belong to? The best way to find out is to explore this massive and beautiful world we live in. Immerse yourself into the the wanderlust world of the unknown and forgot about, the pushed to the side and the left for dead. Everyone has the wanderlust drive to find a friend, loved one or community that you can call home, but first you must drive, and drive far as the long road leads you to your beginning as you get closer to the finish. Get off as many exits as you can. Buy a drink, grab some food, go on a walk, turn into a local bowling alley and bowl. Bowl till you can’t move your wrist – as you soon notice your blowing has been to mixed emotions that have suddenly shown themselves to you. The bowling alley of Exit 98 in Montana has smacked you in the face and shows its true colors, as a tear then falls from each eye while walking back out to the car that sits nearly by itself in an empty parking lot with no sign of the woman in the red coat that Jon North wrote about. WTF, you think to yourself, why I am doing this over a blog I read? So you drive, closer to the designation to get the trip over with, not knowing what awaits ahead of you.  You drive with hope, as your foot dresses down you heat beats with the desire to love and to be loved.  What waits in Montana? What is at the finish line? Or is the finish line what awaits? Will the woman with the red coat be there? Or will it be myself waiting for myself?  Either way, it’s a beautiful thing with a win-win conclusion. The journey of life brings us wants we never knew existed.  First you must drive and exit, exit and drive.

The woman in the red coat flipped her hair back, flicked her cigarette out into the street, and pulled her long thick red coat around the front of her body as if arms were hugging her. She then walked back inside to the cash register. For her break was over, and it was back to work.

The End

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s