I am parked at a red light, watching the faces of strangers go by.
In various vehicles lay the lives of many, known to none, understood by one.
The man upstairs understands these voices – how crowded his phone lines must be.
From the college student driving home from class, just waiting to hear some good news.
From the father, dressed in his suit and tie, anxiously on his way home from work.
From the young couple, afraid and exhilarated by the world ahead of them. One hand on the wheel, another by her side.
From the teenage boy with clouds in his cheeks, beanie on, windows down.
You see, when your sound is intentionally turned off, you people watch. You think of the bubble outside of yourself.
We are all from the same place, going to our own spaces.
How beautiful this life could be if the good people of the world were genuinely heard
How busy our phone lines would be too.
Isabelle Justice 