Bugs

On Saturday I drove to Chicago and back to Cleveland, including a lunch stop it was a 15 hour ride. It was a hot day, in the high 80's and every flying bug in the mid west was reveling in the heat. Until I drove smack into them.

We had lunch at Fridays in Hoffman Estates, our Puerto Rican waitress translating our English better than we understood hers and smiling a caramel smile in spite of curt responses from my ex-wife.

Loving hugs and see you soon brought me back to wheel and through the pricey high-rises, past the public housing ghettos into the great corn fields and onto I-480 to Parma. The angels carried me home. From island-in-the-sun servers to sprawling land and back and through and speeding swerving sleepy dusk turnpike drones, the Angels carried me home again.