The Exit

This happened during the morning drive.

There is an exit to our street from a nearby highway eastbound, but there is none westbound. I told wife that it would be so great to have one. Then I told her my plan.

Maybe I would start by requesting it to the city. Gather signatures, create a Change.org petition. Should that fail, I would initiate protests. First it would be just me, then I would enlist others, create a movement.

Then maybe, just maybe, by the time I am geriatric it would be considered, and budget allocated for it. I would refuse to die without seeing it happen.On my dead bed I would ask with frail voice: “Is The Exit completed yet?” If the answer were to be no, I would say “I refuse to die without seeing it!”, and continue my struggle. I would only accept death if The Exit was a reality.

After a few minutes of silence, while still driving, I thought it over. Our street is pretty narrow, a two ways road. I don’t think it would work out having that much traffic flowing into it. I changed my mind. I am not going to pursue my plan.