Our Street




I moved to the suburbs and as I did when I lived in the city, I use public transit, ride my bike, and walk to get where I’m going. In this way, I stick out, something, I’m not entirely comfortable with. Anyway, that’s another story.


The sun has just set and I’m walking home from the train station along the Hudson River. A man crosses the street and his big smile spills into words. I’m intensely focused on my destination. But he’s excited, and in a very thick south african accent, he says, I’m so happy. I got a job. I start tomorrow.


I congratulate him with a good luck, man. He say’s it again. I’m so happy. I ask, where? He sings, The Stop and Shop. I answer, that’s a good job. (And then the coach comes out in me.) Get a good nights sleep and arrive early.


I’m still walking, my pace is quick, and in the distance I can hear him declare; I can now help out my mother.


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2 Responses to Our Street

  1. Chuck Sigars says:

    Thank you, Janice. You always inspire me, but this soothed me today and lifted my spirits. You coach me, seriously.