Running errands. dropping kids off at practices. being a mother. Running all over multiple towns and cities in the surrounding districts. God it was tough.
Waiting for the lady infrount of you to count her damn money. Waiting for the coffee you ordered over a half hour ago. Waiting for the grocer to restock the shelves so you can get the one can you need and leave. Waiting for the next paycheck so you can pay the bills. Waiting on your kids and their friends and their parents. Waiting.
But you met a lot of people. And made a lot of friends. It was a great distraction from the true unhappiness that lived in your heart. Until..
Mitch Coby Michael Grassi came walking out of chipotle, 6 blocks away from your house. He was there. 6 blocks from where you'd been resting your Head the night before. 6 blocks.
6.
That number rang through your head as you slammed on your breaks. It was too late. You didn't know how or exactly what happened, but the blood curtailing sound of screeching metal and shattering glass gave you a pretty good idea.
