Sound horn

I got off macdade Blvd. came down Knowles Ave by the park and came to the “sound horn” bridge. I broke down. I remember so many times me and you or me and dad came through this area. I immediately thought of simpler times so long ago. I couldn’t control it but it was so nice out I just kept going and came to a beautiful street donned with American flags. Families in the park. I remember driving back through that area so many times. I think about it now. It’s such a small corny thing but it was such a memory we had. I came home from so many games and practices and food pickups. I think about how I used to touch the felt on whatever car we we’re driving. I would lay my hand flat to feel the seat. It could’ve been the sunbird’s rubber plastic, the Plymouth black peeling, the maroon of the mercury, the tan of the caprice classic or the tan of the wind star. I think of my hand touching them all some point in time. I would do it and just smile outside of the window. You couldn’t see my smile but I wish you did. 


We had a nice day for Quinn’s birthday today. Some days I don’t even know how you’re not here. Then I’m like maybe you are here. 


And maybe we’re just driving and sometimes we have to sound the horn.




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