Intersection

One guy (black) behind the wheel of a skadonk stuck in the middle of a terrible intersection, his face scrunched with come on start come on start Ohmygodnotnowness. Traffic forming a rush hour laager around him while his mate tries to rock some momentum into the stubborn sedan. Nobody has hooted yet. We’re all thousand yard staring, mentally clocked out for the day, clutch in, clutch out. Meanwhile, oke (white) in one of those grand bakkies manages to drive to the other side, parks, and in his stripy shirt and office pants, helps push the car out to the side of the road. This breaks the trance. The driver gets out of ohshit mode and gets out too, leaning into the car to steer, pushing with his shoulder. Corporate dude and the two of them nose through a gap and they’re out. Afterwards we’re all superpolite, after you-ing, because we saw something nice, and kind, as the traffic moves again. It is usually all scowls and don’t be an asshole and Really?

Why did I want to write this down to remember it? Because I felt, ja, even though there is so much political static, we’re going to be okay.

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