【Maria Korman】

She was probably in a spectacular rush this morning
The alarm had screamed its piercing, abysmal shriek
And when she saw the time
She probably wanted to scream too,
Loud, piercing, hopeless

She was probably in a spectacular rush this morning
Probably twenty minutes late to work, unwashed ramen-noodle-curling frizzy hair,
Toothbrush, hairbrush, dirty clothes, flying everywhere
A bite of leftovers—something pungent and mouth-curdlingly-sour,
Long gone rotten
In the depths of the fridge she’d probably long been meaning
To clean out

Left boot on right foot, purse dangling,
Coat inside out, frazzled hair and mind,
She finally collapsed inside her car
Probably cursing her mess of a life

So when I, a random stranger,
Cut her off at the traffic light, tires skidding
and screeching like her alarm clock,
Little wonder that she flipped me off
And flung curses out her window at me

I so badly wanted to seethe.
I felt the anger brimming red-hot inside my throat
but instead
I took a breath from the bottom of my lungs
Breathed out,
Expelling my anger, inhaled, envisioned the hypothetical scenario
Of her godawful morning,
And realized that

In her (probably mismatched) shoes,
I probably might have done the same