A Message to a Stranger


This goes out to the man who was jogging on the sidewalk outside the YMCA this morning.

Dear Stranger,

Today was your day. You got up this morning with a smile on your face. You ate a power bar, pulled on your jogging clothes, laced your tennis shoes, and hopped out the door.

You looked out at the Houston humidity and you said, “I dare to take you on.” After thumbing your nose at the heat, you embarked on what was most certainly a joyous run. Your workout soundtrack consisted of the sounds of children’s laughter as they made their way back to school, birds singing as they built their nests, and the soft trumpets of some impatient commuters on their way to the office. You ran your little heart out, huffing and puffing as you turned the corner to pass the local YMCA. Drenched in sweat, you refused to give up. “I can do this. Just a few blocks more.”

And then, from out of nowhere, a wall of water enveloped your already wet body. Confused, bewildered, and soaked, you quickly glanced to the street on your left. You watched as a small Scion continued its way to the YMCA parking garage, hitting almost every puddle in the street gutter on its way. But you didn’t stop running. Despite the smell of street water that seemed to penetrate your very being, you kept going. But there was a little less pep in your step as you rounded the corner and headed back home. Your almost-perfect morning run had been ruined by an anonymous driver.

And for that, I am sorry.


The Scion Driver Who Was In Too Much of a Hurry to Notice


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