Afterwards I had burgers and beers with my fellow runner-workers, some old friends and some of them new. We talked of wedding dresses, public radio and juice blender diets.
I drove home on the highway, admiring the outlines of mountains stretched across a deep-blue canvas. A lone star (planet?) burned bright...and to my right, a long line of Harley Ds paraded past, seemingly in sync with the jazz playing on the radio.
It was a wonderful night - so worth overcoming the inertia that stuck me to my chair hours earlier. Thanks, Wendell, for flipping my mood.
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