I was on the bus in Minneapolis going from my studio apartment to campus. The temperature was -11F and it was around 7am. A young woman rushed down the sidewalk on foot. She had on a mini-skirt and a very thin top, heels, even. I watched until she disappeared out of view. Where was she going? Where had some come from? The distance would need to be short to be survivable. Where were the people who loved her?
She looked upset, but anyone would under those circumstances.
I fantasize, sometimes, about having had my car that day (the one that wouldn’t have started that morning) and pulling over to tell her to get in out of the cold. It wouldn’t have been much warmer, but I could've blasted slightly lukewarm air out of the vents.
“Are you crazy?” I’d say. “What are you doing?”
“Home,” she’d say. “I’m going home.”