dawn drive

The streets were unusually empty. It was six in the morning on a Sunday. Made sense. The people wouldn’t wake up for another six hours. He drove the car slowly under the bridge. And then he would go around. He was comfortable. Of course there had been the incident where those two children had knocked on his window about twenty minutes ago. He knew now that they were probably harmless. He didn’t know that twenty minutes ago while they knocked on his window as he was playing Pokémon. He had waved them off, a neutral expression, and drove away. In the rear view, he had seen them laughing a little. In an awkward manner. They were harmless. If they hadn’t been, they wouldn’t have come over to the passenger side in an attempt to build his confidence. They would have gone straight to his side. But he didn’t think of that then. He thought only of driving away and had a little bit of resentment. He almost had the gym in his location based game. But it was over. He was slowly driving towards the light. In a street that led away from him, a fork he wouldn’t take, he saw two dogs frolicking and playing. Tails wagging furiously. Tongues out. It was hot. Nipping at each other. He smiled. Then his eyes fell on a boy and his mother. The boy was around eight. The mother was aged. She was draped in a shawl. The boy was in a clean, starched white shalwaar kameez. Her lips moved. The boy ran over around his mother and bent over at the grass on that side, and there was something in his hand based on how he had closed it. They were probably coming from prayer. In hindsight, they were probably going to a religion class.

The sun was rising. The sky was a deep blue. Long before it would be turned white and bright by the light and might of the raging red sun. The air conditioner was soft and comforting. The low songs played in his car. His phone was open and he saw that there were no Pokémon nearby. The run had been pretty spectacular. Granted, he hadn’t run the eight miles he was supposed to. He had only run half of that. But he had learned to forgive himself long ago. Rigidity and self love do not often go hand in hand. He had run four miles and then he had gone around driving. In part, he was waiting for the guard to wake up, so he wouldn’t have to disturb him when he went home. In part, he was enjoying the quiet morning, and driving around his home city. He had visited his grandfather. The graveyard had been nice and quiet. And now he was going home.

Before he passed the boy and his mother, he saw a swift motion, and a yelp, and then the dogs whizzed away. The boy smiled a smug smile, the mother placed a blessing hand in his head. They walked onwards.