and in a minute you.

In a minute you'll look at me with a squint in your eyes. You'll turn to the side and glance at the cars. Because you'll want to be distracted. It'll take you some time to realize, but you will. I'm certain that you will. I anticipate that moment. And, if for some reason, my hypothesis fails me,... ...well, even now I struggle to place myself there. Maybe I'm stubborn. And I am. You're weird.

Hello again...

So, I've started reading more consistently and it's directly contributed to my writing more consistently. It's pretty great. Earlier today I sat on my stoop and had a lovely time taking in all of my surroundings. I was inspired by a girl I saw sitting in a car, carefully adjusting the volume on the radio. I wrote a little something based on what I saw...

She looked out the window while she adjusted the volume. The radio was playing Blue Oyster Cult, a band she didn't particularly care for but today she really seemed to like. It fit her mood. The man sitting next to her on the driver's side took a breath and focused on the road ahead. He was driving them home after a quick trip to the store.

"I'm hungry," she said. "Well, we'll be home soon enough. There's plenty of food in the kitchen."

"Yeah, you're right...Do we have any chips? dip?"

"Ummm," he began to think as he made a left turn. "I think so. Your mother may have bought some sour cream and onion the other day when Matt had some of his friends over."

"Ooh, that sounds perfect right now."

The Eagles were now playing on the radio. Hannah's father had lowered the volume back a bit when they were talking. They were listening to one of those tragically generic classic rock stations.

"Do you have any plans with your friends tonight?"

"Uh, no," she said, with a slight smirk.

"Why not? And why the smirk?"

Hannah looked over at her dad, kind of surprised that he noticed the slight facial expression she gave in to.

"Well, plans with friends are becoming increasingly unlikely. My smirk was an indication towards...cynicism? Yeah, cynicism. I'm becoming cynical about my social life."

"No need for cynicism in this van!" Dad was clearly erring on the side of positivity. And she appreciated it. So even though she was beginning to resemble someone she had trouble recognizing, she flashed him a smile and replied "Ah, you're right. It is a mini after all..."

By the time Hannah's wit had made its appearance, they had arrived at their home. Unloading the one grocery bag with the one item they had bought, Papa Klein took a bit longer to reach the front door. Hannah had her own key, though, so she walked right in and headed straight for the kitchen, starchy goodness in mind. "Thanks for driving, Dad!"

Robert walked in and locked the door behind him. He took the bag to the kitchen and placed it on the counter. At this point, Hannah had already grabbed the chips and plopped down on the couch by the window. Robert took the paper towels out of the bag. He took the plastic off and put the roll on the hook. It all seemed so routine and automatic, nothing he had to really think about. By the time he had trashed the plastic, he felt overwhelmed with a triumphant feeling. It seemed to come from nowhere. This couldn't possibly be organization-induced, he thought. Robert suddenly felt like every vein in his body was writhing with energy. He ran up the stairs, then ran back down, ran outside. Took a magnificently deep breath. Greeted neighbors that walked by him and stood outside of their homes.

"Uh, Dad? What's up? You are really making me feel like a pathetic couch potato over here..."

"Pun intended?" Her father inquired, grinning widely.

Hannah looked down at the bag of chips she was holding and tried to suppress her laughter. "Yes, that was good. Go, run, awesome..." She walked back inside, truly happy that her father seemed happy, even though her demeanor didn't quite show it.