I tossed the letter onto the passenger seat, then buckled my seat belt. I started the car, backed out of the drive. I turned on the stereo, volume level 10, no 12. No, 14.
The windows rolled down, breeze cooling off the sauna-like interior of the car, I drove up the hill. Singing out loud the words to one of my favorite new songs.
Breathe it out
I can hear you now
You think reality's shut you down
And you're locked away
Where you can't get out
Within minutes I had dropped the letter in the mail box, and was heading back home. The song faded out. I selected another favorite. I was home a couple of minutes in. I could have stayed out in the car listening. But I turned it off, and went on inside.
A brief space of bliss, rockin' to the post office and back home.