A comfort in the morning.

The man that drove me over quiet, misty hills wore a black cap and a black jacket. It was certainly not all I would have expected. We were in a low, black car, not a white van and I wasn’t surrounded by overweight male nurses. Everything was still but the soft sniffing sounds from where I sat. I wiped my tears again and looked out the window to my left. I wasn’t scared… I wasn’t even sad that I was going to prison. I was sad because I wouldn’t see Sherry for at least another year. Something inside of me wished this drive would never end, but I knew that life doesn’t work that way.