My mind found comfort in the rhythm that came from the tires of passing cars crossing the seams in the street—thunkthunk, thunkthunk, thunkthunk—providing monotonous relief.
And I was vaguely aware of questioning which direction the late winter wind was blowing, which carried with it the faint sound of the church bells announcing the hour, 6:00 p.m.
The conference at school had gone well.
So I could not help but wonder what had caused the imperceptible shift of temperament, like the transition that I had just observed from day to night.
I had slipped. The melancholy returned, if only for a moment.
But today is another day and the sun hangs high in the sky, dazzling and bright.