index
archives
profile
cast
links
notes
email
dland

one quarter inch of glass

(2006-02-02 - 04:10)

I'm awake while you sleep. I choose to hide from the sun, rather than lie down in it like some. I exist in a world of blinking red and amber lights, like a captain sails his ship by the stars. Slipping through the darkness night after night I bring to you that which you must have, need or merely desire. I navigate forty tons of steel across an asphalt ribbon with only a foot and a half of spare room. I must keep my load secure, its weight evenly on all my axles, and know each states laws by heart. I must plan each trip to within one quarter hour of error to remain within my legal hours of driving time, or my fine if caught will far excced that weeks pay. I am expected to stop my truck on wet surfaces with less than needed space because someone made an illegal lane change without warning. I must drive through snow, wind, rain and the desert even if my cab's air conditioning isn't working. If the road becomes icy I must stop and put chains on 18 to 22 tires. If I wreck it is my fault, and if I do not get the freight to its destination it will be my fault as well. I see most of you every afternoon getting off work and school, on your way home. I get glimpses of your world through one quarter inch of glass. My world exists within this 72 inches and watching all of you...

Through one quarter inch of glass.

<< starboard ~ port >>