The Way the Wind Blows

“Windy Point Transportation, how may I direct your call?”

I’m not sure how she so often manages to call me as I crest the halfway point to the city on my drive into work.  When she does, this is how I answer, in my best nasal phone-operator voice.

“Hello, yes, I’d like to speak with Morgan Davis, please.”

“I’ll put you right through.”

I juggle the turns and toggle the volume and chat with my girl as the miles pass between us.  She asks what I’ve got to do today.  I ask what Specials she has.  She asks what time I’ll pick her up. I ask if she’s ready to head out the door.  She asks if I’m running late. I ask if she remembered to pack her books or her homework.

She promises to call at least one more time.  I promise to answer.

We chat again along about the ten-minutes-from-work mark and we run through any of the same questions that were forgotten earlier. I tell her how the weather is.  She tells me what the dogs are up to.  I tell her how beautiful the sky looks. She tells me what her dad is doing.  I tell her how the traffic is. She tells me to have a great day. I tell her the same.  We share at least a dozen “I love you”s.

Then we hang up.

I turn the music back on and put both hands to the wheel.

Moments later, a single chime.  That’s the first text:

A second goes by; another chime sounds.  That’s the second text:

As I pull into work, I let her know I am safe.  As she leaves for school, she lets me know that I’m loved.

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I am participating in the 11th annual Slice of Life Story Challenge (#SOLSC18) hosted by Two Writing Teachers.  We write each day in March as part of an international writing community.  I appreciate any comments, especially those that

• reinforce writing decisions that work and
• coach into those that don’t.

Think of each comment you leave as a little writing conference we are having together. Come on, make me a better writer today! Thank you!