Scene: A foggy morning just before school. The frigid air is not quite cold enough to transform the dew to ice. A has left the car and is meandering toward the gated steps that lead down to the school. A pack is over one shoulder, a car seat is over the other.
J (wondering to himself as A stops): What's he looking at?
Car radio: A strong cello chord from Vaughan Williams' Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis A continues to sidle back and forth, slowly making his way across the grey landscape to the opening in the cold chain link fence.
J (suddenly struck with an urge to leap out of the car, run to A, wrap him up, and lead him to the classroom): Oh my God. (A continues to trudge to the steps, weighted down with pack and chair, while stark cello chords reverberate inside the car). How will he make his way? Who will guide him? How can I send him out into the current of life? I can only be like a lighthouse that shines from a short that grows more distant and... damn you Ralph Vaughan Williams and Mother Nature for tweaking with my hormones!
(A has made the top of the steps. J navigates the traffic of other parents dropping off their children)
J (thinking he should turn off the radio): I used to think this music was profound and now I can never listen to it again without having an ABBA Slipping Through My Fingers moment.
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