Friday Afternoon

I drove home from work through the pastures of grazing Holsteins, past the fields of cotton ripe and white and full on black, withered stems--a Southern snowfall--windows fully open and winds tossing my fine long hair in every direction, wanting to rid myself of the toxic atmosphere of the day. If I could have, upon arriving home, I would have dived into a pool of chilling water and swum and swum until I was breathless and clear of it all. I crave the beach where I can wade in the swirling waters at my feet and feel salty breezes clearing my soul of the things I deal with on a daily basis in my job. I am a teacher.