Perspective

Gianna Caforio

The car door creaked open as the man got in. He was already running late to work. His tie was too tight, and his pants felt itchy. The bird feeder was usually buzzing around this time, but for some reason, the birds were especially silent today. He tried to turn on his radio, but all he could hear was static. As he drove down the road, he became more aware of the gloomy sky. The clouds seemed heavy and gray; it was probably going to rain. The man gazed over at the stone wall on the side of the road. It looked sharp and jagged. The rocks were not perfectly stacked on one another. Weeds poked out from in between the stones and appeared to be reaching out to him. The road he took every day suddenly looked different. He wondered if he had just never looked close enough, or if something had changed.

The car door screeched with anticipation as the man got in. He had been waiting for this day to arrive. He gazed over at the stone wall on the side of the road. The rocks were smooth and comforting. They glistened as the sun shone down on them. It was especially bright today. The man turned on the radio, which happened to be playing his favorite song. It was upbeat and happy. He wasn’t sure what it was called but it always put him in a good mood. He rolled down his car windows and felt the breeze touch his face and tussle his hair. The trees swayed back and forth; they looked as if they were dancing. Something felt different today. Everything was brighter, more hopeful.