The Long Way


She likes to take the long way. The ramps. The hills. The stairs. She lingers far behind and runs off ahead. When I catch up, she’s gone again. She will wait for me. And stop to check every driveway for cars. And still reaches to hold my hand. But walking from one place to another, it’s always the long way. Our schedule, these days, has a lot of room for the long way. We stop and go. A perpetual unspoken game of Red Light Green Light.

As the days warm up, my patience increases. I’m happy to slow down a bit myself. When my hands aren’t cold, I’ll take pictures and stop rushing. The long way doesn’t feel so long on those days. Even when there’s more Red Light than Green. One day, she will rush me. To see friends. Or a show. This lingering doesn’t last forever. She will one day know what time it is. Or even the day. She will have plans. But for now, we stop to climb a bike rack, or a fire hydrant, or swing from a railing. The long way rules.

Author: Casey

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