Closed to through traffic

JP woke with a feeling of trepidation and loathing, so without looking at his watch he knew it was the start of the workweek. His wife lay next to him curled in a tight ball, blankets tucked around her. Her face seemed furrowed, as if even sleep was stressful. He reached over and squeezed her but, knowing that she was too sleepy to complain.

Reluctantly, and with great effort he rose out of bed. Exhaustion tangled his mind like a web and beckoned him back to slumber. The threat of not having a job to go to was sufficient force to motivate him to break through, get dressed, and drive to the train station. As he drove, the sun slowly rose behind him, beckoning the world of man to awake and start to work, some with the same loathing that plagued JP.

As he drove, he noticed a sign that said “Road closed to through traffic.” A faint thought occurred to him that this might be bad, but this thought was quickly drowned out as something like a road seemed impossible to close. Closing a road would be like closing civilization “impossible,” he thought. The barricades up ahead alerted him that for the moment life had stopped and would be rerouted. He stopped the car and stared at the large wooden fences with disbelief, as if they would evaporate from reality if the right amount of disbelief were focused on them. The thought of going around briefly flirted through his mind as the truck ahead of him did just that and roared on its way. He started to go around and stopped. Perhaps barricades are up for a reason. Perhaps not all roads are meant to be traveled. Perhaps that cop car that was speeding past him to give the truck a ticket was enough of a reason to find another way to the same place.

So he turned around and found another way. He was late but not enough that the office drones would notice. He began to wonder what other barricades in life could be handled in the same fashion. He began to wonder if sometimes just changing ones thinking is in itself a solution.