it's been awhile.
Driving east on Orange Grove two days of the week, I see a man selling honey next to his car, parked in a pull off. Some days it rains, he sits in his car and waits. Other days it's extremely hot, and he has a canopy under which he sits, the jars of honey stacked on a small folding table beside him. I wonder about him, each time I drive by. I imagine myself as him, sitting in the car, listening to the rain, eschewing the endless stream of cars for the desert brush. The hours become minutes, and minutes hours. Someone pulls up and dashes out to buy honey. I get a good soaking, but climb back in the car and put on the heat. It's Tuesday, and tomorrow will be a sunny day. I'll sit outside and watch the cars for a change, wondering about who's driving by. I'll imagine I'm the driver, going to meet a friend for coffee whom I don't even like. Maybe that driver is wondering about me?