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Chasing The American Dream

July 29, 2008


I had just finished running six miles having to outrun a thunderstorm. I still had to traverse a busy intersection and managed to weave my way across the street. I had one more street to cross before getting to mine and I wearily began to walk across. About half way, I heard the sound of a continuous car horn, and when I looked up and to me left, it was coming right at me. What immediately flashed through my mind was that the car was gonna hit me. An then almost immediately instincts took over.

Somehow, as if all in the same motion, I stopped dead in my tracks and jumped back. The car made no effort to slow down. As I looked up, I saw an old man with an angry face giving me the finger and telling me to, “Wake the fuck up, asshole.” I think he wanted to hit me. He missed me by less than an arms length. How do I know? He was so close, I slammed my fist on his trunk as he sped by. Granted, I was an idiot for not seeing him in the first place, but did I really deserve that treatment? People around here are surprisingly rude. Next time I hit the streets, I’ll be paying strict attention for sure.



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