I was sick all day so I hadn't been eating much. With the evening hours rushing in at a time-crushing pace, I went up the road to the humble McDonalds to get some bland, unhealthy "food" that is likely only going to make me worse.
Anyway, there I was. I was waiting to receive one of those ominous, grease stained bags when a grasshopper fluttered up to the rear view mirror of my car. I thought nothing of it, grabbed my food, and off I went. At a stop sign, however, I looked over and the grasshopper was still perched atop the rear view. As I rolled out of the parking lot and into the line of cars waiting patiently at a stop light, I looked over at it and it still hadn't moved.
"This has to be the end of your ride," I thought to myself as the light dropped to green. I slowly accelerated. The grasshoppers antennae, once hanging in front of it's green body, were now being blown behind it.
At that exact moment, a sense of nostalgia poured over me like hot grease. The road in front of me dissolved into a living memory: me, hanging out the side of a Canadian grainer, rocketing through the wall of trees that makes up Oregon. I had just lost my hat (we were traveling pretty fast) but I didn't care, because the wind rushing through my hair was a sense of complete and total freedom, as if freedom has it's own specific air that only chose to blow on you during certain moments in your life. And as reality faded back into the picture, I thought to myself: that grasshopper is feeling the exact same thing right now, half of its legs hanging off, clutching on for dear life.
As I rolled to stop at another red light, I looked at the grasshopper and smiled. Maybe we're all just insects in the grand scheme of things, trying to get from A to B while having some fun while we're at it!.
cR
Anyway, there I was. I was waiting to receive one of those ominous, grease stained bags when a grasshopper fluttered up to the rear view mirror of my car. I thought nothing of it, grabbed my food, and off I went. At a stop sign, however, I looked over and the grasshopper was still perched atop the rear view. As I rolled out of the parking lot and into the line of cars waiting patiently at a stop light, I looked over at it and it still hadn't moved.
"This has to be the end of your ride," I thought to myself as the light dropped to green. I slowly accelerated. The grasshoppers antennae, once hanging in front of it's green body, were now being blown behind it.
At that exact moment, a sense of nostalgia poured over me like hot grease. The road in front of me dissolved into a living memory: me, hanging out the side of a Canadian grainer, rocketing through the wall of trees that makes up Oregon. I had just lost my hat (we were traveling pretty fast) but I didn't care, because the wind rushing through my hair was a sense of complete and total freedom, as if freedom has it's own specific air that only chose to blow on you during certain moments in your life. And as reality faded back into the picture, I thought to myself: that grasshopper is feeling the exact same thing right now, half of its legs hanging off, clutching on for dear life.
As I rolled to stop at another red light, I looked at the grasshopper and smiled. Maybe we're all just insects in the grand scheme of things, trying to get from A to B while having some fun while we're at it!.
cR
