Essay
Hope for Humanity
Late for Work
Eastbound and westbound lanes halt.
“Crap. . . late for work.”
“Damn. No flashing lights. . . What? . . .”
Beat-up, rusty, muddy, once-upon-a-time-white Ford pickup in the lead on my eastbound side. Powder blue Prius at the head of the line westbound. Pickup driver creaks open his door, steps out, hurries in front of his truck.
“Oh no. . . What’d he hit?” Turn off my ignition. “I should get out and help.”
I watch the guy remove his Kelly green baseball cap. He flaps it up and down — hat waving frenzy.
Dragon tail, bear claws, hog snout, parrot mouth, rhino skin, vampire bat eyes, war shield carapace. A float-tube-sized snapping turtle scampers . . . should I say, lumbers . . . across the highway, ignoring the hat flapping truck driver and growing lines of stopped traffic.
No horns. We watch.
She makes it — the turtle achieves the far side of the road, disappears into the weeds, thanks to a guy with a Kelly green baseball cap driving a dirty Ford .
High speed mechanized human life resumes.
Maybe there is hope for us.
Cheryl Thomas 2024
