She straightens my tie before smiling and waving at me as I walk down our path. Our son stands to her left, still in his pyjamas. He rubs his eyes sleepily and clutches a teddy. I smile broadly at them. I am next to my car. It is a blue station wagon. Opening the car door, I wave again then my briefcase is on the seat next to me. The car has started up and I am driving out of my driveway. On leaving our street, I turn left onto Main Street. People are going about their morning business. A yellow car passes, travelling in the opposite direction. Checking the traffic behind me, I catch sight of myself in the mirror and I adjust my glasses. Sunlight pours through the window and warms my arms. I wave as I recognise a neighbour pushing a stroller down the sidewalk; her child shakes a rattle in the air. Another neighbour parks his green car outside the drugstore and ambles inside. The only light on Main Street is suspended over the intersection. It is at red. Slowing my blue station wagon to a halt, I wait behind a black SUV; its darkened windows concealing the occupants.
