Every morning I drive toward sunrise. Three turns from home it starts with a glow, then over a hill and the light explodes like starburst. The city is lit from behind, creating a proud silhouette.
Up and over, over and down, the hilly road takes me closer.
A long, straight road, signs warning drivers about low-flying jets. If I’m lucky, I get there right as a big one flies right overhead. Otherwise I’m treated to lights in the distance, high in the sky, as people approach home.
A couple more turns. Find a parking spot. Hop out.
Stand before this.
You know, going in to work is not so bad.
