Growth

It was about noon, cold and bright, and we were stopped at a red light. He was telling me about a reunion of friends he'd been a part of yesterday. They went to elementary school together. Some of them split off from the group during the transition to middle school. There were even more divergent paths moving on into hight school. He'd just finished telling me he didn't miss the him his friends did from back in those days. It was quiet, and that statement was ringing in my mind. The traffic light was thinking about changing, dangling there over the intersection from a horizontal yellow pole. Just above that, a wind-driven ribbon of white cloud was flying by beneath a madly flapping American flag. And above the flag was the clearest brightest blue. Everything inside the car seemed very still.