I glanced over at the odometer and watched the digitally scribed numbers on my dash grow as I crept forward through the California desert. Death Valley’s hot breath blew past my windshield and into the open windows of my mid-sized vehicle as my tires continued to spin over dusty asphalt roads that were beginning to sizzle in the late spring heat.
The car full of people that I was towing were all headed over the first of three state lines that I would end up crossing within a month’s time frame, and with every border I crossed, and every mile that I traveled, I could only hope for more to come. Continue reading “Across State Lines”→
I let my fingers fall as they lightly tapped the computer keys on the black plastic board. I was quickly trying to finish up some work before leaving the office in the next couple of hours when the first, of some of the most horrific texts, came trickling in.
Someone from an ongoing group message I was in asked us to keep her sister and her husband in our thoughts and prayers as they were in Paris right then. She had let us know that there had been multiple terrorist attacks around the city and that there more were happening.
She quickly pushed out frantic messages in our message stream. “There are at least 30 dead and hostages have been taken. We haven’t heard from them and my parents are freaking out.”
A low gasp had emitted from under my breath as I changed my computer window to a Twitter stream of the trending hashtag, Paris. Some of my friends that were posting online hadn’t heard from their family or loved ones either, and some friends from the Palm Springs area spoke about one of their local bands also being held hostage at a concert that was taking place in the city.